quoting Matt Langley
"set out from color"
but found a boundary
at best, a fallen fence
at worst, weeds grown
at heart,
in our hands
there stood difference
the same under
a dive, a swim,
a pocket full
of flailing house keys
pairs of prankster
car keys we didn't hide
well enough
but we went far
from a certain date,
we may never—
made it
look shiny, past dents
spit and polish,
all the troubles
smearing by
against a fence but maybe
time, no guards to say,
step there, that's
the wrong way
hoarse with certainty
I knew—
I know
but where we started
a shoulder overlooked
the pattern we see,
"set out from color."
It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories,
his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the
worst, and so grow gently old all down the unchanging days and die one
day like any other day, only shorter.
-- Samuel Beckett, "Malone Dies"
This page was last modified on 2011 December 20. "Loved Poem No. 3" by John Sullivan is Copyright ©2003 - 2011, and licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.