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A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Gone the Day

It's day the 18th and I have chosen a Free Verse poem to celebrate all the black and white movies I've been watching as I lay on the couch drowning in allergies. They wrote and spoke more lyrically, more introspectively, in those early days. Sometimes I weep inside with the beauty of their words. Here's my tribute to them:

Gone the Day
Quiet, now, time to pay
The piper of today, that spinning, 
Dancing, cavorting player upon the pipes
Sleepily the night winged birds dip towards horizon
I stand watching the sunlight fade to gold-burnished indigo
The day has fled, drawing a blanket of stars across the velvet night.
I drink in the night only infrequently, refusing to lift my head
Gone with the sun, today's helping of rich potential
Departed, falling through the glass
As sand, mounding up
Never to return.
And I? 
Have I mourned
That tender gift of time
Which now is gone away?
No. Never sufficiently. I have paid
For my tomorrows with the sunsets of today
And garishly and carelessly have I danced away
The possibilities with which tomorrow lay festooned.
I crouch, instead, fearful of lesser things which I have wrought.
I wish I'd filled this day with the brilliance of a fresh-cut rose.
Knowing I shall never retrieve that which I have lost
A single, wasted tear, for nothing brings what
Has flown away, back again.
But what of tomorrow?
Await the Morning
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

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