All night long I fought with memory
It was at the door and staging riots
The old wrecks of old times ...
I'd have to decide what to do with them
Crying, peace, power, lies, hope
It was all there in the sleep
that would not come
– Leonard "Imagist" Blumfeld
(after Amy Lowell)
For One Single Impression's Reflecting.
Oh, that is wonderful Leonard. Thanks so much for joining us this week. That last line is a tour de force.
ReplyDeleteWriting in Faith: Poems"
I just hate it was old and unpleasant memories rear their ugly heads. Crying, peace . . . yes, that just about what I feel reduced to sometimes.
ReplyDeletenice and refreshing..thank u..
ReplyDeleteSuch a familiar battle. I know it well. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteVery pointed. Good images. It captured for me those occasional sleepless nights.
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