“Fall Wildflower” — Computer art by kenne
Nobody cares, particularly, about my grief.
Is there a philosophy book I should read?
There are always the photographs, shinning behind plastic.
Aim, shoot, print: ten years later
one still can’t
copulate with a memory.
We were young once and it was spring.
Sperm drifted to the top of the water between us in the cool lake
like a beautiful bird, fluttering close . . .
Wasn’t it because we were together that the sun shone down on us . . .
The an emptiness followed,
burning up in the heat, the sand and lawns turning white
in the distance.
Now it is fall, the beautiful season.
The moon rises over the sickle-shaped
whir of a combine
edging toward chaos in a cornfield near Asylum Lake
like a cast-off sweatshirt’s pale
blue unravelling.
— from Fall Again by David Dodd Lee
Reblogged this on Lisa Mari Egra.