Early Summer Mourn


It feels so safe in this soft summer bed
With the sheets smelling sweetly
And the light warmth of the cotton blanket
And the early morning birds chirping
After the cicadas have stopped
Why can’t it always be peaceful?
Like this moment
“All things hang like a drop of dew
upon a blade of grass” i wrote the poet
In the blink of an eye
I have truly seen
Best minds destroyed
By sorrowful disease
Neurologists never give good news
And I lie on a bed with an anguished dread in the pit of my core
Jesus, take away this crown of thorns
And touch these sword pierced hearts
i Yeats, W.B., “Gratitude to the Unknown Instructors”

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GK Stritch


GK Stritch is a contributor to Beatdom and the author of CBGB Was My High School. The book is available at the St. Mark's Bookshop, New York City, and amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.

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