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A title can be found between the lines
by Jared OrlandoLook, she says
Sometimes I just cannot do it
We always talk about wind
The chill, change, the future and
I dont know the last time when
We talked about something
Worthwhile, and Im exhausted.
Sands that once welcomed me
Are only filtered through the crevice
As the hourglass determines
What is left of any hope.
Look, she says
A mile is not the only roadblock;
Borders and time zones;
They are not the only things
Keeping us apart.
Such avenues are only
Turnarounds, forks in our
Road to resolution.
Look, she says
Seasons that were once our
Expectations, are only now my most detested
Adversary. But you were just a season.
A change in my routine, the death of
My leaves, the freezing of my
Scenery, a scorch of the skin.
Its winter again;
Its frigid again;
And you can find me somewhere-
Warmer.
12/18/2008 Posted on 12/18/2008
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Nanette Bellman on 12/18/08 at 06:16 PM i love how you used the seasons as a cycle in this. it fits well with the repetition of "look, she says..." time really is a vicious circle, good luck my friend. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 12/18/08 at 06:25 PM Great write Jared. This is so well done. |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 12/22/08 at 11:58 PM awesome piece, i especially like this bit, "But you were just a season.
A change in my routine"
i feel like someone has said something like that to me before. |
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