Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. *sigh*
There's a lot of unresolved issues and angers floating around. Bubbling under the surface, not close enough to break like a wave, but certainly causing an undertow that is deceptively strong, pulling me under,when I thought I was having a lovely swim.
Meeting people's expectations. Having my own remain unmet (or sometimes worse, undefined). Even the articulation of a blog entry is just beyond my grasp.
And thus... you get left with a poem, cause that's all I have to give today.
Our love is like a dead squirrel
fallen too young from its nest
decaying beneath the tree that was once home.
There is no one to bury him
But as the seasons come,
the leaves will gently fall,
obscuring his corpse from sight.
Grandmother Oak, laying him to rest
Tree Dryads giving him a 21 acorn salute.
Through the turning of the wheel,
he will breakdown, feed bugs, disappear
under a foliage drop cloth.
Come spring, perhaps
some haphazard garderner
will rake clear the spot,
showing that he is gone.
Consumed by his Earthly Mother,
leaving a memory for no one,
and a fertile spot for something new to grow.
copyright yummyteece 02/19/06