the lichened limb had spread so slightly freaky now
downing itself upon the brisk green slope with a tender growth-
that made me think of an arabesque that swirled serene,
when,
someone whispered in my ear about purple perambulations
and a sudden swoon turned this sour world into a swirl of joy:
it's hard to blame the classics even when four becomes five.
is it really that easy to die?
Saturday, November 14, 2009
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ReplyDeleteThe "purple perambulations" are often on my mind. There is a sort of comfort in this thing that helps make life kinder. Not sure why that is.
ReplyDeleteGood poem, as usual.
I think it is easier than any of us can fathom.
ReplyDeletexo
erin
When the end is right, perhaps it is. Perhaps it feels like "an arabesque that swirled serene."
ReplyDeleteWell done and fiercely your own, as always.
welcome back WIAW. Thx Megs and PO.
ReplyDeleteLife is precious and fragile...
ReplyDeleteLike this one a lot!
great poem... love the twist at the end!
ReplyDeletethe movement in this is lovely, especially with so much stillness there as well.... you manage to achieve these quite remarkable pairings and conversations...
ReplyDeleteeasy death... I wonder how one would know...
thanks as usual for lots to ponder