Day of mist: day of tarnish
with hands
unserviceable, I wait
for the milk van
the one-eared cat
laps its gray paw
and the coal fire burns
outside, the little hedge leaves are
become quite yellow
a milk-film blurs
the empty bottles on the windowsill
no glory descends
two water drops poise
on the arched green
stem of my neighbor's rose bush
o bent bow of thorns
the cat unsheathes its claws
the world turns
today
today I will not
disenchant my twelve black-gowned examiners
or bunch my fist
in the wind's sneer.
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Comments1WOW, THIS POEM REALLY STRUCK A CHORD WITH ME. IT'S ALMOST LIKE WALKING THROUGH A FOGGY MORNING, FEELING THE COLD, DAMP AIR AND SEEING THE DAYS EVENTS UNFOLD IN FRONT OF YOU. THE IMAGES CREATED REALLY DREW ME IN AND I COULD ALMOST FEEL WHAT WAS BEING DESCRIBED. THE INTENSE EMOTIONS AND UNDERLYING HINTS OF STRUGGLE AND DETERMINATION GAVE THE POEM A GUT-PUNCHING DEPTH THAT I REALLY ENJOYED. IT MOVED ME AND LEAVES ME PONDERING, I WILL BE THINKING ABOUT THIS ONE FOR A WHILE. GREAT READ!