poetry, prose, and other strings of words · 1993 - 2003
Newton's Apple
Number 139
November 30, 1998
Once—when you were near—
Torches—lit the far reaches—
of my being.
Once—when you were near—
Gravity—held no sway—over
this fleshly body.
But gravity
is an insidious force.
Now, though you know it not,
Your very presence cuts me.
Each time, I have healed,
But every time, ever deeper
Goes the knife in its well
of bitterness.
And one day we awoke,
To realize the monument
We had built—
Could not withstand the
Scourges
of Mother.