Last night was time take the chance--
(Avoiding the glance of any passerby)
To wait in shadows that the moon cast deep
While the waiting world considered sleep,
And the bats traced paths through the darkened sky.
Not finding the elusive thing I sought--
(Although the thought did cross my mind)
It's true, I guess, in retrospect,
That I may never, I suspect,
Come across what I wished to find.
The thing I dislike most about medical school is that I have no time to write anything and make it good. Or long. Test week starts in four days, one hours, and forty-one minutes.
4 comments:
I fear the dark, unless I know there's someone in it with me, for me.
Someday medical school will be over, you know.
Someday.
I like what you're writing now.
I used to fear the dark, too, until I made up the Dinosaur Corps. (Seriously.)
... I'm still quite struck by what flows out of you. I wonder at the effort invested, at the content herein, at the thoughts behind the words--and all the divergent paths to which they could quickly scamper. That is one thing I love about written things--that once created, in a way, they seem endless: paintings of the moving bits of life, the bits that ebb and flow and grow with us. Thank you for your paintings.
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