Hey September,
Do you remember
When we were best buds,
And we frollicked
Under blue skies above;
When we packed up
Our school books,
And waited for football
On tenterhooks,
Till it all ended
One year the world shook
In kabooms
And the chase of spooks?
I do.
Since then
I’ve not been right,
Awaiting a truth
We were all told,
To stand in the dock
And deny it;
And for the guilty
To eat the Book of Life
In their prison holds,
Digesting
Page by page,
Until they spew bile;
And we light
Their chem trails
And they burst into
Funeral pyres.
This didn't turn out the way I expected Maxwell. A powerful piece of writing. Conveyed well.
Chris
Posted 6 Years Ago
6 Years Ago
Just like that fateful day one September. Probably most thought they’d come back home. read moreJust like that fateful day one September. Probably most thought they’d come back home.
Thank you, Christine, for stopping in for a read. So glad I can surprise a reader.
WHOA! Here I was, in the mood for a light September poem & you go & twist my socks off! I love the way you start out your poem, harshly nostalgic observations, then your message turns as you describe the world turning . . . could be the most spectacular September in recent history, or maybe another one, some mass shooting that's already faded in my memory. I love & envy your biting satire (((HUGS))) Fondly Margie
Posted 6 Years Ago
6 Years Ago
I like that jarring transition. I try and feature it once in a while. Thank you, Margie for your bea.. read moreI like that jarring transition. I try and feature it once in a while. Thank you, Margie for your beautiful analysis.