Carrying The World
You are now adorned,
Africa low on your back,
the rest wrapped around
you, a tight embrace.
You hope for better timing
as you dance toward
the brighter star shine
far from the cold dead despots
of the bad old days.
Lennon's dead, you sigh.
I know where to go to find
young Morrison's grave
among the poets
and I'll grieve with them all. Now
John and Jim are gone
too soon, and with them
the others at the world's edge,
red floods of spilled blood.
December 9, 2012 11:29 AM
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the world has grown quite discordant without their musical mastery to quiet it down.
ReplyDeleteSome people are given this kind of burden by the rest of us...
DeleteChristopher, your poem will be one of my favorites this week ...... so lovely.
ReplyDeleteI'm 100% with Helen.
ReplyDeleteThis reminded me that, to some people, the world was once flat, and had an edge! :) I like your thinking...
ReplyDeleteIt's not???
DeleteI love where you took the last stanza of this.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully crafted poem, Christopher-- unique, exquisite imagery. I especially love:
ReplyDeleteas you dance toward
the brighter star shine
far from the cold dead despots
of the bad old days.