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"Eulogy for How Things Used to Be"
by Max PhineasLooking over the pier
I do not see a horizon.
A silhouetted skyline jabs upwards at the gray abyss
In a fruitless attempt to reign over the sea.
And the Sun, scorned,
Hides its face behind the lighthouse-
(Can one call it a lighthouse?
For it has never cast any beams upon the black water)
But beyond the pier
And the Sun and the skyline
There is no horizon.
05/17/2006 Posted on 05/18/2006
Copyright © 2024 Max Phineas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Julie Adams on 05/18/06 at 10:15 PM this is beautiful...I love how you managed to capture the loss (the absence of the horizon) with such vivid imagery: a vision to behold in every stanza...well done, nice read...wishing you the best, *jewels* |
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