poetry thursday

The Taxi

When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?

From Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds By Amy Lowell

when i was in university
and a bit of an alcoholic
and on a little bit of a downward spiral
i copied poetry that
spoke to me
into a special book
reserved
for just that...
this is one of those poems.

it is interesting to me now
to look back
and wonder
"where was i at
when this appealed to me?
what was happening in my life?
who
was
i?"

in comparison
to
who
i am now.