Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Forty is the New Thirty

The same old abandoned walks
Despair would be too dramatic, would call for action
Instead I am shading my eyes from the sun
The dark side of the sun spooling out its disenchantment
I am not the only drunk on the temple steps
The swirls of light around people and special objects
All forms of knowing and perceiving
This road has been hallowed by travelers
The children throw rocks at the embassy
I can write whatever I want
The clock, the wave, the bird, the star
Some very nice things have happened
And some not so very nice things