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:

  1. 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

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

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

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