The Wish Poem by James Mills
The Wish
Rating: ★4.7
Tethered to a stump of memory
a Wish lies bleaching in white isolation.
Dream winds worry its fading outline,
cracked lights shine on it - sometimes.
It wastes. Brittle as unformed ideas,
it breaks. Unvisited, it withers,
almost dissolving, till just subtle stains
remain, ghostly as amputees' pain.
Friday, May 6, 2005
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4/19/2024 11:06:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
