Succor

So much now passes unexamined.
I dash, dazed, like some poor bug,
Who's been smashed once, but hasn't
Died. It knows it will be smashed
Again. It knows, for all its frantic
Movement, time is almost up for it,
And soon enough its twitching form
Will be all that is left. I live in fear
Of being shocked. I grieve because
You will not love me. I stare at the
Picture I have here of the one place
I've never lived, but always thought
Was home, and wish that you'd go
There with me. You wouldn't have
To stick around. We'd sit upon
The basalt cliffs above the blue
Columbia and gaze across at
Treeless hills that arch up on
The other side between our cliffs
And Yakima. I doubt that I will
Live that long, and know you wouldn't
Stay with me, but couldn't you
Provide some succor, hand on
Forehead, lips on lips, as I dash
Madly, dazed?



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 79 times
Written on 2017-05-20 at 01:12

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