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North Western Sky
by Richard VinceThe trees are dark fractals;
Black against the turquoise
Of the north western sky
As the evening and morning
Become ever closer.
The cynics who never got me
Are silhouetted similarly by
The bright lights of old friends,
While the person I was then
Appears darkest of all.
Trying to live a different life,
I was forever sweeping up
The dust of my brittle
Newfound confidence, hoping
That every rebuilding would be
Closer to the design.
Sometimes, I feel as though
I am still doing that;
That this life I lead is still
Strange and new, and that
I am still striving to become
The real me.
Mostly, though, I know that I am
Me already, and that the real
Struggle is to make sure
I stay that way.
05/26/2009 Posted on 06/16/2009
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 06/16/09 at 11:17 PM Richard, I love the way you start with a description of that earth-moment and move gradually deeper and deeper to that frightful place of trust where a writer undresses in front of the world. Thanks for the trust and for this lovely poem. |
| Posted by Sarah Wolf on 07/16/09 at 10:33 PM That last line is so true... |
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