@3We find ourselves in the middle of a movie, or, God help us, a take for a movie, and we don't know what's on the rest of the film.@1 Annie Dillard We forget some things are only a summary of their season. Lilac buds swell with scent pinch back to death each May while buildings trellis blind windows into the sun. Above the lilac's odor thick as taffy the city rises concrete against the sky over this temporal perfume. If it is not true that energy is never more or less, never destroyed or made, always transplanted - bloom to the blundering litter of autumn and there is a slow leak of energy a soft hiss in the tire of the universe and it is true that in each metamorphosis a little more is lost, that bloom becomes oblivion, then no wonder we make pyramids and no-deposit bottles force the inorganic into the pose of the organism - every statue an attempt at what we may never be and we are only a series of framed moments fugitive in the dark - a Chaplin gesture dissolving into the obdurate light - as trapped in finity we try to forget people are bio degradable. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A THOUGHT IN TWO MOODS by THOMAS HARDY LONDON CHURCHES by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES SONNET: 99 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 33. AL-HALIM by EDWIN ARNOLD IN APRIL by MARGARET LEE ASHLEY BRITANNIA TO COLUMBIA by ALFRED AUSTIN POEM, READ THE SOLDIERS' WELCOME, FRANKLIN, NEW YORK, AUG. 5, 1865 by B. H. BARNES |