September 27, 2011
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Poem 9/27
Jotted down over coffee. An okay beginning I think. May still play with this one a bit. Always love getting emails or messages with reader feedback….
Passacalgia
Four days
Begins the counting of time
The sweeping by of the hours
Four days
Since the cutting fields
Left marks in the places they were flung
Four days
Of knowing it doesn’t matter
Creeping closer towards the time of mourning
Four days
And I’ve been marking the minutes
Of all that can’t be taken back
Four days
Of asking impossible questions
Inside the bottom of my head.
Four days
Wasn’t the best of times for us
And another twenty-four hours
Doesn’t change anything.
