A Bout Rimes

The translation of this name depends on the variation of spelling one uses - roughly it means 'new' 'Ice Age' 'hoarfrost'. ************************************************* ***************************

I followed in behind the stragglers.
Waited for the glasses to clink.
Ignored my neighbor’s vulgar
Joke; I remember reading

That geese do not necessarily land at sundown,
Late arrivals can increase their numbers.
The waiter sits down a bowl of apricots
And internally I marvel at the accomplishments of solar
& the rain. Muse that you were wearing

Jeans that last day in the park –
‘Member, that day they shut the power off in California –
We picnicked on rainwater and sandwiches;
You picked the jar of sunlight up to your ear,
Listened as it turned to gray
In it’s dusk. Stood and began to walk,
Pontificating on ethical felonies
Of waste, to waist; Your rant falling into cadence,
Survival of doomsday being inconceivable.

My neighbor warily watches my internal episode,
Wonders if sunlight, like apricots, can be stolen.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Poem Edited: Thursday, June 10, 2010

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Edgar Allan Poe

Annabel Lee

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