Lamentation

I can't say that there are many poems from my father. But here is one. If I didn't know before- but I did- there is no doubt that I come from a family of pessimists.

Still, it's a good poem. I think.


Lamentation

Yesterday I cried

This morning, also.

And I will cry tomorrow

Dry tears.  No drops to wash away.

Sordid uninspiring tentacles, browning trees

Viscous, clamorous life forms,

Unevolved after ages in original darkness.

The astral light pointing the way, unseen.

All this viewed through a pane of glass.

Once crystal clear, now darkened by

The graffiti of our times.