Monday, October 08, 2007

Melancholia


Endless winter of dirty snow...

Stars, like unwanted babes, 
tossed down dry wells.

Our breath cold as glass... 

Touch unable to rescue
the life lost in speaking.

3 comments:

Beysshoes said...

I like this very much David. The bare starkness of it. I think I'd have left the dry out of the well though.

Perhaps abandoned instead? S

Beysshoes said...

I looked it over. Its not so much the word itself but the alliteration that doesn't quite work for me. S

Beysshoes said...

P.S. Favorite line: "Life lost in speaking".