By the gaslight flames
I read your name
it's etched in stone
In the life you've left behind
you cast a shadow and a line
to those who follow
In this ink of midnight ran
the film noir life we planned
to end in sorrow
How then could you leap
not in faith
but by some deliberate turn
into the unforgiving cold?
Never twice the same
the flowing river drained
over the rocky falls
For every drifting orchid thrown
and in the amber light that shown
I said your name...
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Mr. Dallas,
ReplyDeleteKeep in mind I have read relatively little poitry and commented even less. If I'm reading this write, what would it look like without S2 and S6? but that's just me the miniminihilist. I guess what I want to do is condense this to the "feeling" sort of thing, is intuitive a better word?, I dunno..anyway...the rest of the poim does that for me.
hugs and kisses (not the letter to Superman kind....
definitely an old-school, film noir
ReplyDeletebottom note of romance. EM Remarque and
Arch of Triumph. A refugee is like an insect:
short-lived and wing-pinned.
Hot-house poetry, Sir D.
There is a sultry subtext throughout this piece.
ReplyDeleteI particularly fancy that last stanza.
seraph