Where art thou. T.S.Eliot?
Why, when what I need is a Wasteland,
Why do you forsake me?
Do not take away this pessimism.
(It's all I have got ?)
Irradiant friendships of yore,
Those shiny happy people,
Nights spent at bull sessions,
Coffee, movies and dawn teas.
The harsh weather tempers the soul,
Till its sinews of steel stand out,
The promises of spring minister hope,
To a teeny rabbit in its hole.
A new awakening. A new dawn.
The oaks and maples will blossom.
The time soon comes for apple picking,
Listen to old man Frost.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
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