I shall gaze at the buildings ahead
and still see trees beyond the hill’s edge
like once when Fall touched them, waning
the leafs that weren’t rusty yet & hiding them
yellow beneath the sunlight patches.
the leafs that weren’t rusty yet & hiding them
yellow beneath the sunlight patches.
And I shall think : it feels like pain
should feel in an artificial limb, like this static buzz
hurting your ear - the noise from your e-reader device
should feel in an artificial limb, like this static buzz
hurting your ear - the noise from your e-reader device
substitutes memories held by a book's pages
as yellow as tobacco’s smell
as yellow as tobacco’s smell
Like once his fingers touched them.
2 comments:
One of the things that your poem evokes in me is this thought: Looking ahead stimulates memories of what has gone before. Sometimes those memories are pleasant, sometimes not, but they are part of who we are.
Yes. and nostalgia makes us embelish even those events past that were not that good...
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