Pinkening Woods
A single moment gliding down the road
While evening's sun is sinking from the sky,
My eyes rest on a stand of trees below
That seem a shade too pink for late July.
A welcome mere illusion of my mind?
Or could the sun be burning out, above?
These woods be dying long before their time?
Like one young man I used to know, and love?
Not bitter, I won't mention my lost lover,
So don't think I need rescue from my woe
Just since I want the mocking summer over
When truly summer ended years ago.
Enough of soothing arms to bear my load
And flowers and flowery words to ease me through
And holy water burning in my throat;
I swear the sun will break before I do!
I vowed I'd be his guardian to the end,
An end I never dreamed would be so near,
And were his soul in Hell right now I'd send
A raging, blessed bullet through my ear.
Not bitter, only desperate; hope not lost,
I will the woods to turn a deeper pink,
And make my tears evaporate at once.
Of future years it burns to even think.......
Grow blacker, soul! Don't weaken, fade, and cry.
Grow pinker, sun! I BEG YOU! FADE! AND DIE!
|
|
|---|