The Wish Poem by James Mills
The Wish
Rating: ★4.7
Tethered to a stump of memory
a Wish lies bleaching in white isolation.
Dream winds worry its fading outline,
cracked lights shine on it - sometimes.
It wastes. Brittle as unformed ideas,
it breaks. Unvisited, it withers,
almost dissolving, till just subtle stains
remain, ghostly as amputees' pain.
Friday, May 6, 2005
Topic(s) of this poem: isolation,lies,memory
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8/5/2026 8:03:27 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
