Monday, January 19, 2009
I was innoscent once.
A kind word for ignorance.
Too soon I forgot the fragrance
Of the fresh mown grass in the ball field.
Auroro borealis. Lying on my back at night,
Looking up at dancing lights and galaxies.
One day I began looking down.
Slumped with books and memories,
Scurrying crab like from class room to office,
In doors. Away from the sun and stars.
I do not know if ever I knew you.
I was such an idealist in a realist creation.
Counting kisses while others counted dollars.
It may have been a tease. We teased back then.
Before the politically correct killed laughter,
And stared as glass eyed fish,
Swimming in their own soiled waters.
Sometimes now I do look up
On days without the smog
And putrid stench of dying slogans,
I remember freedom.
Something the licensed can not recall.
Like making snow angels, auroro borealis,