going to get up early
watch the dawn
come over the green hills
an orange ball rising yellow
I want the memory
one last time
to know in the watching
this is it
the last dawn
my eyes will see
to know
tomorrow
will come
come without me
and to know
how a last rising looks
feels
and be thankful
I know and I see
this is the last
4 comments:
I like this -- another solid, concise image
just more drunken poetry. I should probably institute a rule: no posting while drinking. :-D
No, no, don't do that, ever.
The thought of all that we would never see is downright terrifying. Which implies you post a lot of drunken poetry, :-D, which was not my intention to suggest. Just that having read this poem for example, the thought that I might not have is a haunting thought.
Disquieting, yet, and I'm not sure that I can find fact to base the presumption upon, it is, seems, distinctly a momentary contemplation, somewhat like a conscious, intentional admonition not to take the dawn, the new dawn, for granted. A contemplation of death in order to truly appreciate life. When you write of knowing tomorrow will come without you, there is no hint of anguish, rather it appears as a solacing recognition that though dawn may set on one life, others will know the dawn. As, all As, especially this one needs a B, but in summary, wonderful.
Well, send me the whiskey and I'll drink it. :-D
And maybe write a few things too. ;-)
Post a Comment