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The closing of the chapter
by Keith D Allison The watcher not call
the water not cold
the water not hot
this sounds, as a thing not like
The dinner table set
no mother
no father
the children roam on their own
One great Eagle has fallen
swaddling itself
the other walks
in its own vomit, bleating
No one sees
no one cares
let the games begin
the melody of fun rumbles in the air
The final chapter is set
how many breath
tile
the end
For the circle
of history
always
repeat
From the ashes
but a small fragment
Shell
know life breathe 03/07/2007 Posted on 03/08/2007
Copyright © 2024 Keith D Allison
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/08/07 at 04:56 AM There's a lot of really sharp, beautiful language in this thing, man, wrapped in an idea I think entirely too many of us can relate to. I like it a lot. |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 03/08/07 at 07:30 PM Hi Keith. This seems different for you, and that's not a bad thing! It's rather enigmatic, and I might say, a view of where you see current mores headed. Interesting, enjoyed this. Thanks. |
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