A Rose on the Nose

I.

If I could grow a rose

on my nose

would life smell sweeter

 

II.

Will playing with semantics

allow me to I better understand

things romantic

 

IV.

Or will sand

continue to leak faster

out the hole in the neck

of the hourglassed

time conception,

only two directions

up and down

frown or clown

 

V.

Everyday the glass

was turned

leaving less fuel

to burn

 

VI.

Will not turning it

conserve what

energy remains

or will I myself

then become

unfeeling

as those grains

which when escaping

coarsely scratch

my visage as they fall

through the hatch

of disaster

and dismay

seemingly

beyond recall

 

©Cap'n Cal

3/10/96

 

 

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