CRIPPLE

9.23.15

in the middle of a torn paper

and a repeated song

is a make-belief.

in the gray sky of Friday

or a cold wind of May 

i recalled,

such symphony slowly fading,

when fathomed hopes

crippled in a mid-day smile,

blurring.. .

deep beneath that memory,

in the night sky all wasted,

flattered with an old song.

Author's Note

to an old friend..

Reviews

[G!o]

Simple and very perfect. Musical and a poem I am definitely bookmarking as my fav this year so far. Your writing style is beautiful and full of magic

[shunik]

thank you for the review G!o

[Andrew N. Farrens]

This is really great. You invoked wonderful imagery with simplicity; the whole less is more thing, you dig? Thank-you for sharing this with me. Well worth the time......

[shunik]

thanks for the review :)

[Coyote Poetry]

Your poetry always leave me with the need to know more.
"deep beneath that memory,
in the night sky all wasted,"
The above stood out for me. Wasted night lead to sad beginnings. Thank you Christine for sharing your outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[shunik]

and thank you sir for the reviews.. :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Its quite a special thing how a song can cause us to live,
relive or live again. Nice penmanship.

[shunik]

thanks a lot :)