Interminable Sadness
The road is black ash.
No footprints precede my tread.
Only the wind howls.
White lilies weep ink.
The lush silence chokes on gall.
Smoke wafts to heaven.
The lake is glassine.
Soft music streams glissando.
The mouth is bitter.
Sneak-thief Death takes them.
Graveyard borders blur and melt,
Yet grass is still green.
Calligraphy pen
Held gently, sleeve pulled aside.
The lines dry too fast.
Tea, porcelain cup,
Slowly filled, now made empty:
Life is all drunk up.
(Wednesday, January 13, 2010, 10:56 p.m.)
From the Botanical Series by JunJun Sta. Ana
