DescendingA Poem by Poe Redda satisfactory poem in a Billy Collins-inspired style. Don't know Billy Collins? *icey stare*Okay Billy Collins. Here we go again.
(Sighing, I would so love to be you.)
Okay yeah I understand that the funeral home needs a clean parking lot.
But why did all the snow have to be pushed up against the whole door to my cathedral?
(Now, my cathedral is actually just an empty lot with a few nice tress but I feel like
A priestess walking the grass and telling the ghosts [squirrels] to get some rest for the living's sake.)
So can a mountain of unwanted snow keep me from walking my grass?
No, the Priestess has legs she can climb even if sometimes her feet dissapear deep under.
I found myself wondering once what if when I reached the top to climb down there was no bottom even though it was right below me?
What if with every step I lowered myself onto it was actually the one I'd just left and the ground was no closer?
I'd be descending those icey steps forever.
What I never thought to wonder was what if I changed my mind suddenly and turned to look back up to the top of that nightmare mountain.
As far as I had not come down so far away the summit would appear not to be but then I would ascend and never get higher than I am already, in the middle
Caught between the sky of one world and the bone-littered gorunds of another. © 2012 Poe ReddAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on January 26, 2012 Last Updated on January 26, 2012 AuthorPoe ReddOntario, CanadaAboutI'm back!! Will update all this nonsense soon. Much new writing to arrive shortly. Not a place for children. more..Writing
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