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wytchcroftand scarlet ribboned
woven round
these autumn trails
blown to a stand still
grave and gray
such a little way
a pause for thought
to feel the rain
the pressure on the glass
the curving track
where they laid her down
between the summer and the grass
it's an empty room
and a speaker phone
it's a rusty tongue
and guide
the yellowed book
that Beckett wrote
has coffee stains inside.
woven round
these autumn trails
blown to a stand still
grave and gray
such a little way
a pause for thought
to feel the rain
the pressure on the glass
the curving track
where they laid her down
between the summer and the grass
it's an empty room
and a speaker phone
it's a rusty tongue
and guide
the yellowed book
that Beckett wrote
has coffee stains inside.
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-05 07:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:bravo!
Date: 2009-11-05 07:32 am (UTC)спасибо!
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-05 05:06 pm (UTC)This poem is a full one, my friend. Very well done.
:)
(no subject)
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