Your Little Half a Year

 

Today, the world’s fire has burned

In me so low, until I am not surprised

By anything anymore, not love’s absence

 

Of the gathering of little cruelties

How at the corner of this avenue

I have so much to give, though to receive

 

The careful interest on my face

Must spend its breath in vain hopes

And long-sought-for thirsts at

 

The threshold of irremediable flight

Where in the crystal morning of

The cauldron of the world

 

I watch the passing of another quickening year

These riddles, chariots, darts

And all these charms more

Changing than the tides.

Reviews

[patricia]

This was realy good. it pens observations in a great style. the fire buring low, the little cruelties, crystal mornings and cauldron worlds, the unusual summary in the last stanza is one more of the charms you should or could add to the list...loved the riddles, chariots and darts. Great poem. Enjoyed.

[Prolific In Verse]

Thanks, I do like endings!