poem

CrescentI want to go to bed vinegarAnd wake up a fine red wine.Dawn is coming soon andLingering Venus shimmers just belowA wryly grinning crescent moon.I want to imagine all things end well.The bad become the good,Dad shows up in the end,The girl says yes,The dead degrade and rise again green.I only eat blueberries one way:Cold and crisp, a wet pop between my teeth,Hints of sour, not quite ripeness.I won't settle for anything less.xBut the laughter of the universeGets swallowed by the void of night.Inescapable black holes abound.The infinite strength of gravityAlways trumps the rollicking Transience of infinite jest.Alas poor Yorick,Alas poor me,Full moon comes but once a month.The rest is a slow bleeding awayOf slivers of reflected curved light.All that remains is this thin grinThat I happened to notice today.It ’s isn’t much.It ’s not going to bring the house down.But it ’s something.The long-since muffled laughterIs drowned out by the din of dawn cricketsWhich is the sound you hear When the universe can't figure outIf it wants to be light or dark,Robust or frail,Day or night,Whether to choose to believeOr muddle on in perpetual doubt.10/25/20

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - October 25, 2020 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs