Charles Garrison

The fear of falling, by Charles Lamar Garrison


the hope of fortune among the swelling tide
a fisherman studies the evening sun
along the banks of southern Thai
the anchors sneered from where it’s hung
and though the wind may taste like rain
it’s the smell of salt in the swells beneath
which sing a song without a name
the brokenhearted seldom speak
such undying sorrow gathers like clouds
bleeding from the invisible
undisturbed by such a fall
we fall in love with the idea of falling in love…
and never fall in love at all
and though the wind may smell like summer
and the rain may taste like fall
we spend a lifetime with one another
whose identities we can’t recall
I don’t think we really know ourselves
because I feel like that fisherman
watching dusk disappear among the swells
I’m afraid that I’m afraid of falling
from restraints by which we’re bound
because it’s a long way down
and I don’t know if I could catch you…
before you fell!

Charles Lamar Garrison
DOC #A496360

Categories: Charles Garrison, poems

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