Two parallel lines
Chasing each other to shore
Pulled back to the depths
The blackest blue sea
Or the day's hot, bright, white, sun
She has met them both
Two parallel lines
Chasing each other to shore
They will never meet
About the Creator
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Elegy for a Country Once at Peace
There was a morning, once, when we rose unafraid, when dawn came like a friend who knocks at the door, certain of its welcome. We opened our eyes to a country still whole, to the people who had learned, by long and faithful labor, how to live beside each other in the ordinary grace of the uneventful day. Oh, what were we then, who did not know how rare a thing it is to dread so little? The newspaper passed beneath the elm in autumn, and its news was only news, only the slow procession of the known and mild. We received it calmly, the way a still pond receives the rain and settles back to calm.
By Tim Carmichaelabout 8 hours ago in Poets
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