Friday, April 9, 2010

Listening to Joni Mitchell's 'For the Roses'



Summer always sent you running on your long white legs toward a dramatic enterprise. In the mirror rubbing sunscreen on your thighs you were pale as a moth seeking a flash-light.


And when you’ve washed your hands, and cleaned the sand from your eyes, you wont regret what you didn’t get, you’ll regret when you've wasted your time. You might regret a couple cents you spent, but you won’t regret the rhyme:


How it magically, casually followed, so sublime. Commemorative, mythic, memorized; Coral-pink beads, California day-long sunrise. All that you lost regained in full! Regained in full with over-spill, and still with a few hours to kill,


Not wrong when you claimed that mercy was tangible as a pear; that lucidity was as real as that tree there. And the estuary was wet and cold and clear on the morning that you saw it, so near and, it seemed, all too soon. Licked clean by time and healed by the moon you are ready as ever for what ever comes next.

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