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Poetry
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| neither will tomorrow | |
| By alandavidpritchard | ||||||||||||
| 19 October 2006 | ||||||||||||
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a poem about loss...the second time around this poem is entirely fictional...and a variation of a theme in a poem by robert frost This may not feel like the best time, but neither will tomorrow. We’ll fumble through this somehow, borrow what we can from yesterday’s leftovers: a row here, a mood-plunge there. Sorrow, worn like threadbare overalls grown and sewn into, has served us well before. Our second – gone; nights too long to wade through; the song of unbearable silence – this, these – Oh, God, I know, I know, I know. I’m here, baby, take my hand. Turn from the stones, stand close, stand. This may not feel like the best time – But neither will tomorrow.
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