Dear C,
don’t feel guilty. No one ever did.
In the cradle of the sun setting
to rise, no one ever felt. Guilty
is a word affixed to verdicts after
a trial. By fire, we sat and pondered
each action we ever took into
the event horizon of a fabricated
history. So don’t. Feel guilty.
Each word we ever heard is a particle
in a glacier. We’re as frozen as
that slow movement of the past
until it melts. There is a crashing
and an epiphany. We are the cradle
of change. And we cradle each word
which is a step on a horizon
that never existed. At least for
a thousand generations of words.
So don’t. Feel guilty.
2 comments:
Dear C
is very good, H. The second stanza is remarkable.
Thank you, Paula,
I'm struggling at this point in my attempt to write a poem a day through April, so anything that approaches poetry, I'm very grateful for.
h.
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