i'm sitting in your favorite spot
erasing all the words i just
wrote down.

afraid you'll see them, and
then
you'd know.


i'll still sit here, i just won't
harden with graphite these willowy
words that have their own reality,
their own timbre and temper.

words! so beautiful!

sometimes
so
useless; at length, we're like the Danards
on the river Styx
dipping water with sieves,
as we use our words
to carry our meaning to another.

alas. like Sisyphus, we still try.

02/28/2005

Posted on 02/28/2005
Copyright © 2024 Charlie Morgan