Achim Wollscheid Poems
|82.||I'Ve Got Friends||12/20/2009|
|84.||A House Is The Building Or Structure In Which One Lives||12/29/2009|
|85.||Are Dreams Escapable?||2/14/2010|
|86.||Every Dying Color Lays In The Street||10/12/2009|
Comments about Achim Wollscheid
Every Dying Color Lays In The Street
Fall is damned!
Every leaf of every tree sheds
as the balding of a man's head.
The pigments are beautiful,
but they're trampled on the ground:
the oranges, yellows, reds and browns!
My eyes find the most horrendous thing;
children plummet into the heaps
that I submissively raked up yesterday.
Each day in Fall I wake from a torpid nature.
It pains my limping limbs;
the eyesore of many gardening tools.
Why can it not be the time of fresh new ways?
When the weather is warm and replenishing
like the admirable season, Spring.
Always, around this ...
Run, Run, Run
We’re at seams
Threads and ending things
We know it’s just the world
But we know its hurtful ways
We hold each other’s hands
And their faces grow distressed
They all scoff at us
Unmoved and merciless
We’re fond, you and I