millions drift: up, down, left, there, back, fore, to, fro
a few glimpsed longer swirl by, pause whorl moment's rift
gift seeing longer, take overwhelmed look at vista of billions
floating seeds in air on mission to make more: making more makes more
miracle birth so many can live suspended high up awaiting a fall never comes
littered the sunken cluster tighter in a carpet layer unmended
while parents, up-ended, roots stick them immobile in place
seeding or spewing or shooing young into airspace or ruin
lost but glorious far but farther to go they fly and don't know
under no power own fly from their homes aiming for the horizon
(written after having half a beer, which somehow made me drunk for a short time. Nothing has been edited but spelling)
The winkle
1 year ago
4 comments:
That's very clever. Good work.
Haha - I often write my tales when drunk. Sometimes, barely awake. I usually enjoy reading them back the next day. Sometimes I think they're much better than the sober ones, but I tend to like the ones no-one else enjoys best.
I meant to say, is this your Naked Lunch?? ;-)
ha :-) A. E. Housman used to say that he wrote better than ever after a pint of beer. I like especially the ending... "lost but glorious far but farther to go they fly and don't know" is particularly beautiful and has a very good rhythmic cadence.
I was particularly caught by "littered the sunken cluster tighter in a carpet layer unmended" reading this back. Wow. This may indicate that I should think less when writing =)
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