(no subject)

[urielx]

Oh, How Well They Wrote

Those who wrote before us are but fossils,
imprints within swaths of stone,
We outline their poems with greedy fingers,
this is how they must have lived,
oh, how well they wrote!
but can you feel them breathing
from decaying lungs,
do their poems jump and frolic,
or lie still on aged limestone
hardbound tombstone eulogies,

Oh, how well they wrote,
we breathe deeply, close our volume,
return our poet to the dead,
bury them again, we breathe deeply
and pick up a pen.