Afraid
Afraid to be alive,
I wander in the world
of fog and listen to
gone voices in my head
afraid to be alive.
Deep-rooted voices whisper
in my head a bygone
fog of dreams that seems
afraid to be alive.
To-Be
The cormorants are not
afraid to be alive.
The cormorants are simply
drying off their wings
and waiting in the fog
to hear some poetry
about a man who sits
beneath a pine tree now,
afraid to be alive.
Alive
Afraid to be alive,
the pine trees shed their needles,
quiet down the younger
rhododendrons, still
blue voices in the sky.
Afraid to be alive
no more, the pine trees shed
their old growth fabrications,
voice their green and thrive.
~Son Rivers 2006
A DIFFERENT FOURTH OF JULY
-
I have looked for a suitable poem for the 4th of July this year. I examined
several old examples. All the while, however, there was a very unpleasant
feeli...
8 hours ago
No comments:
Post a Comment