Friday, July 27, 2007


this regret is a river running

through night, black and bubbly—

seeping black covers me—I am

intangible but for a trickling whisper

plus an unexpected sparkle, cold-fast

sliver surfacing and sinking all

at once—remembrances,

lost petals, skim past, severed

fragrant images of sorrow, sadness,

suffering—the water is cold

and clean but will not pacify my

parched lips that, like my heart,

are sore and bruised, contrite

and fluttering too late


staggo lee

1 comment:


Thank you! Some intensive doctor visits kept me from seeing this post. Ooops. Damn, you selected the perfect picture, because Edward Burnes-Jones is one of my most favorite artists.

.....a wordy, visual , narrative... as seen thru your eyes and mine.....