Melancholium
Posted on Saturday 17th July 2010 5:53 pm
A creased and discarded tarot card,
the litter swirling through the museum of a life,
of unfulfilled hopes, failed wishes and whimsy dreams,
lain heavy, sodden, undisturbed as silt in the depths of memory,
await the callous prod of apathy’s endless benign ache
that, like the phantom of matters past,
serves to churn old thoughts and memories.
The hazy characters, some on brittle plinths,
more in dusty sheets or smeared glass frames,
offer me one further glance of meagre recognition,
then fade as swiftly as they came,
each with their shared ambivalent frown,
If only………
© Graham Sherwood 7/2010



Cynthia Buell Thomas
Mon 26th Jul 2010 10:48
As I was mulling over the day before sleep, I remembered the phrase about 'words flying by' and I chuckled: do I actually get up and change it, because it is going to scream 'contrary to my intent'? Really bad choice of words on my part; I only meant 'easy flow'. Comments should never be made in a hurry, or with side distractions. Sorry about that.