it is late, this night, soft love
asleeping
.not me, though.
laughing with the breath
of what the mute flames can flicker into my lungs.
each clocktick is another shovel-full of dirt
flung over the shoulder of the
one bastard I can’t escape, the one bastard I can’t outwit.
but, the world turns, and
soon I’ll be gone.
and the mushroom moon shines no sympathy.
the window draws my attention
to it’s dull, framed stars
and symbolism literally leaks from their shivering shells.
but, the world turns, and
soon they’ll be gone.
and the mushroom moon shines no sympathy.
but,
the sun shall bloom soon,
when the hills will have hatched fireworks all along their sides,
and nobody but me saw the world turn
colors.
Jackson Riley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-nobody-but-me-saw-the-world-turn/
