Is this once lion heart
Only a shriveled core now
This once sinewy, lithe body—that
turned, curled, soared in the air
A lump of flesh, withered and
unyielding
Selfishly holding to just mere
existence
But nothing more
Is this once verdant, crisp
life
A pile of leaves
Breaking in the wind
This palimpsest of learning,
the lasting wisdom
Simply a prating fool, a
soundless voice
A page turns and I’m myself
again
The memory of the climb, the
climb
So high, so unshackled
So carefree
The rushing water, the many
feet above
The sound I’ll never remember
The brightness I still sense
All these, embedded in my
flesh
The memory now to keep
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are much appreciated!