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Open Poetry #38
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The Garden of Mortality
| Open Poetry #38 |
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The Garden of Mortality |
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Dublin Boy Member
since 2006-08-26
Posts 102UK |
Late at night, I stare through my bedroom window, the moon playing tag with a skittish cloud: the garden, heavy as a shroud, stares back at me, emptily. Empty, except for intermittent patches of pale moonlight and ominous shadows of bush and tree standing, like dark sentinels, waiting for me. Night--the negative of day--a monochrome photograph bleached of colour and vibrancy, and I am reminded of mortality, the loss of energy and slow decay, the bloom of youth now dull and grey. Only memories, unreliable and old, can now sustain me from the winter's cold. |
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| © Copyright 2006 Bill Fitzsimons - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Gentle Spirit Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989 |
I love the way this reflects on life. Much enjoyed this, nicely done! |
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Interloper
since 2000-11-06
Posts 8369Deep in the heart |
Very well done! Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart and write. |
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A Romantic Heart Member Ascendant
since 1999-09-03
Posts 5496Forever In Your Heart |
The last line was my favorite! ~ARH |
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Dublin Boy Member
since 2006-08-26
Posts 102UK |
Thank you all for responding to this--I appreciate that. cheers, Bill |
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