Wednesday, July 30, 2008


Amidst the trees a rusting hulk
whose sagging framework seems to sulk
submits to the prolonged decay
of those that live beyond their day;
the undergrowth has claimed the bulk
and soon, it will just fade away.

The morning sun is snugly warm
caressing this diminished form
that strives to make some distance ere
the westward skies are filled with glare
or shrouded by a sudden storm
negating efforts to prepare.

So many thoughts, such little time
confounded by infernal rhyme
that counteracts the urge to quit
until there’s been a proper fit
despite accumulated grime
and ailing girders sure to split.


Gerald Galindez said...

hi rch? how are you..

you always make me smile with your pristine poems... an inspiration...

rch said...

Hey Gerald thanks a lot, I really appreciate that.