Prophetic Works

Prophetic Works

A Poem by Fin Buckley
"

I'm not ready to say goodbye.

"

Weathered hands work at a machine,

Weaving together tapestry with robotic rhythm;

I can’t tell which one is more alive than the other.

Her works are prophetic, or so I’m told,

Cloth images that predict the future,

A silly game to play, so I play along.

 

She doesn’t look up when I near,

Limbs still moving to two metallic heartbeats;

Simply sliding more and more fabric out from her hold --

It folds onto the ground.

I look, but I don’t like what I see.

This game isn’t fun anymore.

© 2017 Fin Buckley


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Added on May 15, 2017
Last Updated on May 15, 2017
Tags: poetry, poem

Author

Fin Buckley
Fin Buckley

About
I simply enjoy writing. Let the littlest things inspire you, and let that inspiration run wild. You will find yourself making a lot of art when you do. more..

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