Thursday, December 2, 2010

Revision #5: Blue Slate

With the day dawning nostalgia rose
Towards the gravity in my heart, rain flowed
The grass, young like the crushing feet

Hid the thickening mud
But the sounds of moist earth tattled
And my two dirtied boots knew

The swings ahead were as rusty as my memory
Whispering  to my hands to touch the old steel
I no longer cared that the seat was wet
No longer cared for my tangible body

Moving like a pendulum
My mind replayed the past as if a damaged film
Disturbing the audience with unanswered questions
Missing scenes

A pang of desperation hit me
As I realized the start of the reel could never be found
Just as its end would never be discovered

That morning,
Washed ashore at an unfamiliar playground,
A stray child greeted the dreary sun.

No comments:

Post a Comment