This Poem was Submitted By: Maria C Madison On Date: 2002-11-01 09:08:20 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Atlas of My Days

    to Li-Young Lee’s    “Book of My Nights” 1. Mornings of Madness There is no glow, no song, nor summer  but pain but pain in this silent fissure where none dwells. No seasons return to color the leaves. But leaves, they fall—but lovers, they fall— they fall till movement no more makes one get up  time after time to the joys, distilled. 2.  Daylight, Drab  Father of ethical duty haunts the days—enslaving the feeble. Salivating dogs respond  to curdling blood  rising to the surface. They fight, still fight in the killing fields of each century, of each country, concomitant cries of a soul—spirits, dispersed— wings, clipped.   You would think it was nightfall. 3. Earnest Evening  It is worse to want  the mornings to come faster between life’s breath, birth and death— the reason, none. To lie awake  while your lover sleeps clueless  to unforeseeable years. Love, overturned to unreturned giving  in slow, squalid succession. Going now. Sleep, give way.      ~by Cristina Querrer, 2002 http://communties.msn.com/mschrisandall

Copyright © November 2002 Maria C Madison


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