Users Who Spiked
IF IT BE POSSIBLE
Private Notes
Private Notes
Notes
I rushed to every corner of the street
With hope and want to see whom I could meet,
But when I tried to, no one could be found.
I flew to here, and there, yet all around
It seemed I'd lost my dearest fellowship.
The church was shut; its lock I could not rip,
And every window showed a frowning face.
I walked back to my neighborhood, to race
Some friends of mine. No laughing footsteps ran
To greet me; all had gone off in a van
To ring the bells of Ireland and till
The hollyhock. So I went home to swill
A cup of dogwood tea. I wait, and sink,
And sit while snapping dragons on the brink
Of fainting lose their petals, willow trees
Are shedding leaves, and I grow like the breeze,
A sigh among a field of laurels. I look:
Unnaturally, a set of friendly smiles hook
My shy relunctance. Some are old, some new.
I stand to greet the old, receive the new,
Though great in reservation. Shall time take
The rest forever? Not for Christian's sake?
Shall reconciliation be a myth,
And jewelweed lie on graves of kith?
I fear it so, yet do not know, so I
Shall walk among the old, the new, and fly.
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