Author Information
Graveyard Rambling
Folder:
The Rushing Stream of Desires
We merged.
Our life was a paint by number collection
of rippled sheets straining in the wind.
We emerged.
Becoming the people we had tried
to fabricate in a din of clanging bells.
I stand at side of life
catching a demand or two.
Understanding very little
save that I am somehow
tied to you.
An empty graveyard reminds
me of a garden of stone
etched carefully on the grass.
Like our love that is
but a headstone
commemorating
the distance we obtained.
Jumping caterpillars scorch the
windswept grass as I
walk upon the ground that
remains ever wasteful of
the dirt that the insects
use to create their lives.
We submerge.
Our intentions frosted over with
the dying of the daylight sun.
We converge.
Rushing in slow motion to the
destiny we had determined to become.
Goodbye to the reality of you!
I have made an impression in my mind.
Excellent work!
Excellent work!
Vive le Quebec libre!