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why are you me?
by Charlie Morganas the Sun sows seeds of Spring,
i grab some for my 62th whirl-around
on this bright blue-white-brown orb.
another ashes to ashes fall, winter;
now rejuvenation, inhale-exhale, live
until sorrow's rapids sweep me downriver.
so soon they're gone, never to be replaced.
we say "friend" and know it's a pink meshbag
of feelings, our life...not just theirs.
a friend. a reflecting pond of loving envy;
a haystack made of noodles and Red Queens;
i live until you die, then a chip is gone.
01/03/2009 Posted on 01/03/2009
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 01/03/09 at 04:50 PM I adore the first stanza and want to grab some too from that pink-mesh grab bag. Happy New Year, sweets and may your grabbers type your refills with the very best, every day. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 01/03/09 at 05:30 PM Yessir. My heart hears you loud and clear! |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/03/09 at 06:54 PM It is time to start over agian isnt' it. I'd take some of that rejuvenation if I could. I need all the help I can get from dawn to dusk and beyond. Good write Charlie. |
| Posted by Meghan Helmich on 01/07/09 at 08:32 PM you look like a spring chicken, my friend. |
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