Cliff Notes for a Once Passionate Life

From the Lutin Muse June 2009edition

Written by Ken Carman

I grew up
Under emotionally sculpted skies
Crystal clear northern breezes
Blowing raggedy cotton ball clouds
Over bright blue lakes
Deep, dense, dark green forests
And a deep, wide river

Lifes clouds hung heavy
Or high
A different kind of sculpted sky
All in All
A time when passionate dreams dared to fly

How close passion and I were back when
I would let passion devour me
Every now and then
But it always spat me back up
Freshly challenged

When did this slimy, slippery
Emotionless mist
Start to insist
On dampening this passionate heart?
When did the weeks
The months
Each year
Start to dull even fear
Into textureless
Cream of Wheat days?

When did I let
Like a once beloved pet
Passion be buried on cemetery hill
And how did my dreams get
To curl into the corners of only yesterday?
A process that seemed slower than tortoise
As hope went all
Rigor mortis
Before its time

Through too many moonless nights
Through the steady
Of each year
I hear
The ghost of passion still
Howling up on cemetery hill
And think

He must be almost as lonely
As I
Copyright 2009
Ken Carman
all rights reserved