Dust blown from its embers, long gone cold,
Feelings fret and float, without knowing why,
From a spot in the mountains, quiet and high,
A story whose ending has yet to be told.
(For my wonderful niece.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
Blog Archive
-
▼
2010
(262)
-
▼
December
(20)
- Morning Repast
- 2011
- Move, Baby, Move!
- Sports Shorts
- On A Blustery Christmas Day
- Winter Sunrise
- Floating Ash
- The World Is Not Fair
- What Birds Do In The Tree-Tops
- Vaguely-Remembered From 1990
- Evening Monster
- Waiting For The Final Score To Be Announced
- Japanese Imperial Army Reconnaissance Pilot
- Upon Hearing The Who In A Supermarket
- Up From The Dismal Funk
- It Started With Sony Walkman
- What I Did At Work Today, 20 December 2010
- Insomnia
- 7, 5, 3
- Damned Sooners
-
▼
December
(20)
About Me
Wow...very humbled. Thank you, Uncle "Carl"!
ReplyDeleteAnd you thought that your Uncle would forget to get you a Christmas present this year ;-)
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas and A Happy New Year!