shared with birds perching at the
window.
Delicious fare, a fine wine;
there is Mozart in the
hall –
No,
I am watching the
dying afternoon,
diaphanous as
always,
watching the people scuttle
from place to place
on errands, playing,
loitering:
No –
I am lying on my
neatly composed bed,
languishing like some fatal
Lady of Shalott:
If there is such a thing as destiny
I would be persuaded,
knowing that some of us
are doomed to imprisonment, despair,
jailed in unrelenting
cells
while the rest are
smiling, dancing,
watching television
in the
downstairs den.
Donald Forster Sculpture Park
Guelph, Ontario, Canada
Photographed by Hanneorla: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hanneorla/
No comments:
Post a Comment
One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.
- Emily Dickinson