For One Trick Pony
She fidgets hopelessly, as do I, trapped, it seems,
Inside this room, which, like a fun house mirror,
Makes the sun feel warmer than it is. We go
Outside to learn it's cold, but don't retreat.
We can't endure more hours of captivity.
We are not budgies! Jesus Christ! Instead,
We plod the park's paved path in silence,
Looking at the brilliant leaves which remain
On the trees, the dun ones which are on
The ground. At 68, I tire quickly. There's
A bench beside the path. I dart toward it.
She follows me, and, in the quickly fading
Light, she shakes her head, but faintly smiles,
And, though we're cold and haven't managed
To improve our wretched lives, I'm pleased
To see that her expression is no longer pained.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 42 times
Written on 2021-11-03 at 00:02
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Venturing Out
My pained expression's mirrored on her face.She fidgets hopelessly, as do I, trapped, it seems,
Inside this room, which, like a fun house mirror,
Makes the sun feel warmer than it is. We go
Outside to learn it's cold, but don't retreat.
We can't endure more hours of captivity.
We are not budgies! Jesus Christ! Instead,
We plod the park's paved path in silence,
Looking at the brilliant leaves which remain
On the trees, the dun ones which are on
The ground. At 68, I tire quickly. There's
A bench beside the path. I dart toward it.
She follows me, and, in the quickly fading
Light, she shakes her head, but faintly smiles,
And, though we're cold and haven't managed
To improve our wretched lives, I'm pleased
To see that her expression is no longer pained.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 42 times
Written on 2021-11-03 at 00:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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