My Sad Galaxy

[tri tran]

The lonesome stars twinkle dimly,
The orange moon puts on her silky veil
While hiding her shy beam.
Summer night, mourmful; skies gloomy
Without comets and star rocks,
Except now and then, a fiery ember
Sails by quietly without greetings.
Silence, a whispering wanderer,
Seeking a place to rest.
Leaves have changed into night wear,
Swaying sadly in the cold--
While the breeze flutes its love music to the wrens.
And, my soul, an inhabitant of this galaxy,
Sails away to seek liveliness elsewhere.

[Wil]

Or you could stick around and stir things up here in hopes that the commotion might attact an ass-teroid or such.

[shudhutumi2003]

this is so post-wordsworthian....

[Wil]

Beyond my overly quick quip of a comment, the poem touches the sadness my deeper soul struggles with in this life of quiet desperation. I too wonder at the wothlessness of physical effort and dream of vacating for more meaningful climes. Alas, I am trapped by my over developed sense of responsibility to those grown used to my efforts. I do not fear death. I fear simply working at mundane tasks until my time is over without having plukbed the depths of epignosos and cast monkee dung into the face of righteous presumption.

I DO like this poem.