Sunday, December 12, 2004

Wilted Verity.

Ruptured sunflowers
Break into
Raputurous tunes
To their
Sun lord.

And when the sway
Stops,
The wind sings them
The song of
Purple.

Dewdrops trickle down
The sides of their
Torn
Petals..

But when did I ever
Stop
To see their beaten
Blues?

_____

Today is the day
When
I woke up
And
Saw life
In it's face
But
It didn't feel any
Different.

_____

Amputated.
Halted.
Continuum.



3 comments:

:..M..: said...

screamer - Why, thank you. I've enjoyed re-reading this one.

. : A : . said...

You are right. It needs to be re-read and savoured!

:..M..: said...

.:A:. - :) Well, occasionally I manage to write some re-readable works!