Memory



The blight fell, swallowed up all forms,

Trees, bees, weeds, creeks…lively things,

Whereat aghast, my poor soul implored,

The vessel of flesh and blood still hasted to yield.

Lying there on earth, a lonesome skull,

Rising up from beneath, a broken lachrymal,

Lipless I sipped at the limpid liquid remained.

How was it I extracted life from the bale I imbibed?

A breeze bit the frosting teeth

And slowly sibilated—— death.

Erelong came back the thorny memory ,

Whispering ‘love thee, love thee’ tenderly.

The swarthy eyelets started to cry,

Tears dropt with a heavy sigh.

From the moistening motes grew a rootless spray,

With an incarnadine flower fading away.

A gray-brown bird flew by, tweedled the Vault’s silent lyre,

Piercing was the shrill note, it hurt my ear.

I had tasted thy forbidden nectar and paid the price.

Martyr of a fallen grace, punished by a sacrilegious course.

Alack, the pains taught me to accept the fate.

‘ Shroud me well with all the senses carefully wrapt.’

About Me 簡介

My photo
作家/畫家/雕塑家 ‖ 美國大學藝術史講師-教學評鑒特優 ‖ 美國《世界日報》專欄作家,「刁觀點」時論畫評 ‖ 舊金山藝術學院藝術碩士。