A peek here, a peck there,
A nudge for words gone astray.
A pinch when no one is looking,
Yesterday was an apple fallen and eaten the same day.
The hopping, the tripping, the strolling, the shuffling,
Vanity made certain pride never lagged too far.
The creep of the night was that affectatious doughnut,
Who stole a spot on the phoney pants after all.
But the highlight of yesterday remains unspoken,
To find the meaning, or seek the truth.
The dilemma of making the split second decision,
To be the cold, jittery coffee hands,
or the warm, sleepy heads in the lull of wine.
This is how I (will) feel about yesterday,
Today, tomorrow, as a yesterday in revision.
To the dying petals of white gladiolus,
ReplyDeleteand the waning shades of orange,
are the humbler words of my pen.
You try your two arms and chin,
I will be strong.
If the three nights were the last of the cursed three,
the trinity of orange cosmetic, white gladiolus, and pale heart too will fade.
Silly.
One puts up such a fight.
Stagnant is death, I groaned.
It must have been heard.
For I close my eyes and see her writing the eulogy.
Silly!
One still puts up such a fight.
It is hopeful so the other can be hopeless,
It dreams so the other can slumber.
Silly! Silly!
It will die out.