Black and Blue
I've had a long day, she said,
I've often wondered, he said,
What does it mean when one says that ?
For all days are measured much the same,
Are they not? The seconds and the minutes,
the hours precisely count to twenty four !!
All together and apart!
His eyes twinkled!
Ah! She sighed,
there are days that begin mid morning and end late afternoon,
Gently fade into nothingness,
With the Sun,
And then there are those that one endures,
From dawn to dusk and beyond,
Unceasing the clock goes on and on,
Don't you know those? She said,
The ones when the light burns your soul
Black to a cinder,
And the night whips up a wind,
That scatters one's parts apart,
incessant, such that one comes undone,
Ripped asunder,
They say the Japanese have an art
Whereby they patch up such parts
With gold, such that the broken
Illumined, shines better than one that is not!
He smiled
Though one be broken, black and blue,
That is where the light gets in !
~vinny
6/2/18
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