|
nascent
by Charlie Morgansmoke churns as the warm guts of the day
spills-out on top of the cool country-side,
the heat and weight of a new day,
new year, new births, new deaths.
Atlas shrugs it off as pedestrian,
common, everyday and yawns heavy;
a twinkle of life in his eyes, gone;
hope simmering on the backest burner.
we're cutter ants with archictect plans:
today pyramids, aquaducts; cave-painting;
tomorrow, tear them down or erase. 01/01/2008 Posted on 01/01/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 01/01/08 at 07:39 PM Outstanding Chaz... a pleasure to peruse.... |
| Posted by Mary Frances Spencer on 01/01/08 at 08:12 PM At least hope is back there simmering...enjoyed this one Chaz . Happy New Year! MFS |
| Posted by Alisa Js on 01/06/08 at 03:38 AM You said it best here... something for us all to think about, whenever we find our lives and selves getting far too busy to even stop and think.. aloha and Happy New Year! alisa ;-) |
|
