Saturday, August 5, 2017

The Reactionary

Some creatures have eyes on the side of their head
And others have eyes that look forward.
I, on the other hand, hark to what's dead,
To a past that's already occurred.

With longing I pine for the sweetness that's gone
For the flavor that's turned into dust.
Others want iron that's spotless and strong
While I like mine covered in rust.


John said...

To seek that which was
Is natural, it seems
To deal with the fog of today
It is not the dust or the rust
That calls to us then
But the comfort of all that it covers.

W.B. Picklesworth said...

Well done, John.