Forever hangs on mortal ears
And heard, suspends all hope and peace.
The threat that marks a moment drops
Mem'ries into the Past of Now.
This, hung on slender, fragile thread—
Time snapping with tomorrow's weight,
Piling tonnage of What Will, is
The falling flight from Life To Come.
by Evan Wilson
And heard, suspends all hope and peace.
The threat that marks a moment drops
Mem'ries into the Past of Now.
This, hung on slender, fragile thread—
Time snapping with tomorrow's weight,
Piling tonnage of What Will, is
The falling flight from Life To Come.
by Evan Wilson
3 comments:
Industrial? You are probably correct. Is it "Piling" or "tonnage"? "What Will", I think, has established bona fides inside this poem.
...and "poetic autograph". I'm calling it that from now on.
The more I read of your writing, especially poetry, the more I enjoy it. I've always found you what you have written to be intriguing, now however it is your style and dare I say voice (although I've always taken issue with that term) that keeps me looking forward to the next posting.
Thanks, Tiff.
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