On the waterfront

May 29, 2006 
Posted in Poetry |

The ducks were still there. The music was the same. I was out of breath again.

Has a fall been that silent before? I see everything rushing by. I don’t grasp at anything.

Slide.

I’ve never let go of anything that big. The handles carved experiences in my hands.

Miles cannot erase. My knees pumping cannot erase. My heart ready to burst will not erase.

One day, I said. One day you’ll see the ducks and hear the music.

It will take your breath away.

5 Comments

  1. moonwart on May 29th, 2006 8:47 pm

    Go get it back.

  2. swan_pr on May 29th, 2006 11:49 pm

    it’s too fucking late. it’s gone. forever.

  3. Crunchy Weta on May 30th, 2006 8:43 am

    I can see the music and hear the ducks.(hahh hahh hahh hahh)Great metaphor for something lost.

  4. swan_pr on May 30th, 2006 8:11 pm

    weta: I love yours as well!

  5. error404 on May 31st, 2006 1:56 am

    I love this piece.

    Great writing.

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