Cause Tuesday Happens

There are moments when cars dash past
And the mind is a child’s breath
We feel the wind as John’s apocalypse
Remembering his thirst for Kings
We feel the tiny lot of olives decaying in the loaf
Is not our only hope
But somewhere then the father dies
And the grave replenishes our feast
Telling us that a car has passed
Carrying the weight from all things Kierkegaard
As we understand nothing but

The distance between us and proximity 

And nothing...
Nothing will ever replace this regret

Reviews

[Jeannette Medlock]

Very nice...A very short to thee point is what caught my attention to your poem here as well as the name Tuesday.
Very good..

[Perdition]

Thanks so much! Should have seen me on Tuesday...smiles~

[Jeannette Medlock]

Awe how did you look on Tuesday! Lol

[Perdition]

Like a man "carrying the weight from all things Kierkegaard"...and waiting for the car's response. Otherwise swell ..lol. Enjoyed reading your work..need a little time to let the screams settle but they read quite solid. Thanks again.

[Jeannette Medlock]

Thank you. I'm trying!! Lol