Brightening spirit within the dancing coloured lights when the words will not reveal their mystery in their memories of twinkling feelings
Saturday, February 6, 2010
A Sports' Jacket on Parnell Street
Sports' jacketed, with the leather patched elbows, looking all set for the academic life, perhaps a little beard and a couple of pens in the upper pocket, it is Parnell Street and the weather is winter, and I catch a glimpse of the past in an unforseen moment. And there is a different person in the garb, and I remember the glasses and the gait and the way I was affected then, and I am looking on the sixties in the numbers of the years. I think of now and I think of then and the space between made greater by the succeeding years, life becoming mistier by the thought and the time and the discomfort of uncertainty.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
A new Day
And yesterday it was my birthday. A have now reached the ago of 72. I am enjoying this getting older I have to confess. I have no fear for i...
-
Empty so called poetry, rejoicing in its nothingness, turning from question. Fanciful expressions, sometimes, but not every single time,tol...
-
The lie of re-invention, lies shattered on the floor, truth is wide awake gazing at the ashes of the absurdity of this vain release. And al...
No comments:
Post a Comment