john
you were saying about the meadow
how the grass would get tall
but it was only dull wind in the grasses
not you at all
you were laughing about school days
but when you were done
i heard the traffic sighing in the street
and knew you were gone
the world is in winter
and i must be getting old
for birds across the grey sky
remind me of souls
how the grass would get tall
but it was only dull wind in the grasses
not you at all
you were laughing about school days
but when you were done
i heard the traffic sighing in the street
and knew you were gone
the world is in winter
and i must be getting old
for birds across the grey sky
remind me of souls
posted by heelers | 11:26 PM
2 Comments:
Noble Heelers,
Now that is what I call deep. Three cheers to John's memory and the people that keep it alive every day. Isn't it amazing that one of your best poems in recent memory turns out to be short and sweet.
I'm supposed to be having coffee with your femenist cousin Pauline at The Chat and Chew or Yum Yums sometime in the next twenty-four hours-any advice? As my late Uncle Ken used to say, "There goes the neighborhood." Three cheers to me for not letting my Uncle Ken's memory go. Sometimes I think your Aunty Eileen wishes I would! Perhaps sometime in the not to distant futue, yours truly will dedicate a blog to his memory.
All the best, Anonymous
You always like the short ones Scrapper.
As for Pauline, just seat yourself well back and try to keep clear of her jaws.
James
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