
as the mums (do)
in tedious pantomime
slow breathing in dull stupor
As grey Chrysanthemums (do)
in delicate repose
in diocesian convocation
seeking forgiveness
And Salvation
as the mums (do)
.
-wf
as the mums (do)
in tedious pantomime
slow breathing in dull stupor
As grey Chrysanthemums (do)
in delicate repose
in diocesian convocation
seeking forgiveness
And Salvation
as the mums (do)
.
-wf
I have fallen asleep under my threadbare blanket
My dream begins in an austere land
Faraway, brass horns blow with the many winds
as the gold sun races by
And in the distance, slowly approaching,
the timpani drums beat louder with every breath
The clouds roll and roil in conflicting emotion
I find my feet have left the ground
I fly into the solace of being unremembered.
.
.
w.feller