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Poem

Languor Afternoons
David J Walker

I
The odd stone was a family heirloom 
And a friendly oracle 
Always quietly 
thinking of the future
Collecting visions of the past

I stared for hours 
Before I asked 
for its wisdom
It would simply smile
		But only for a while
Before returning to its mineral leanings 

II 

The fouls flying in
		Single file
Sang in scales 	
Alone 
In solos of discord
Searching for 
		A flocks choir to join
Two were baritone 
The rest sang in pitch
unknown 

III

The man in the mirror
		Whom I did not recognize
Asked me politely
If it’s time to give up
Any hope for change
	Or 
		Had the time past 
to challenge the effects 
of age and gravity 
Shall I be condemned 
for self-fulfilling vanity 

IV
How much easier it is
To live 
In the past 
rather than in
	The future
Where I can be the oracle 
Of all certain things 
	Inescapable 

	I am numb 
with questions
From those in 
	Impending times
To come
	Where I am the
Denizen stranger

V

Languor rain on an 
autumn afternoon
the sun refuses to show face
		disgraced
by good intentions unmet 
but 
I am open to an 
	Unannounced extended stay
I have yet to 
	curse September rain as
It comes 
		When it comes

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