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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4196 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention And Yet Lady MacB Find me the metaphor Among tempered stones and petrified steel, Hermit crabs washed ashore, Summer schoolrooms, padlocked doors And naked oaks in January's Maine. Where is the meaning In wandering rivers and stoic skies, Wheat fields ripe for gleaning, Babies at their weaning And the ever-present fertile egg? Is something truly formed From bleeding pomegranates and broken dreams, Wolves that howl at the storm, Icy winds that somehow warm, Or in the vortex beyond the void? What holds fast through lonely nights When stairways creak and windows moan, Shooting stars bring no respite, Roses fade from unseen blight Til roosters cry to wake the morn? In the end they're only words. I am a coconut, Drained of mother's milk, soft, sweet meat and hollow in the center. |
