CARLITA
Sometimes I get really down, to depths
you wouldn't have thought existed, this
side of a knife. There's little to do but
walk the darkness, like a deaf and dumb
guy pushing a baby carriage through a
raging storm. It's at those times that my
mind starts racing, and I think of two by
two. How people trade off lives and letters,
thinking 'What am I for?' and 'Who was
I be-fore?' It's hardly worth the motion.
On the other, that black night still beckons.
Heartfelt admonitions, sure, take them,
child, from me, and for everything they
may be worth to you. My gift before
I'm through.
No comments:
Post a Comment