Month: November 2019
Clocks set back, days ahead altered
as if time can be held, still
we cannot fool ourselves in believing.
The sun will still set.
We seldom lose hours as much as
we change our trajectory.
It will get darker, before you know.
The sun will still rise.
Between where and then, light will
strike any object in its path
as long as it is able. Faithfully, we watch.
The sun sets.
This autumn, this November,
carries a tone of melancholy.
Steadfast, I can only stare back.
The sun rises.
I know about fear, or fear what I know.
Remnants of the day,
routinely, have so much less to offer.
The sun will still set.
When all that you know becomes
all that you have, you are
unable to consider possibility.
The sun will still rise
We live and breathe, twenty-four hours
daily. Memory will serve us;
those uncertain, those unbroken.
© 2019 j.g. lewis
Posted on November 5, 2019 by j.g.lewisLeave a commentToo many words will confuse,
even cover up, emotion.
When less is said, more
can be derived from
what was meant.
The implications
are not obvious, yet the essence
will remain.
There is plenty to remember.
11/05/2019 j.g.l.
Posted on November 4, 2019 by j.g.lewisLeave a commentWhat shades remain,
a stark reminder
of days past, sun
or moon settling on
uncertainty or a
sensibility of what
we have known.
Daily we ask for
further light, or more
colour. Recurrently
we are denied. That
should not stop us
from accepting all
we are offered.
11/04/2019 j.g.l.