An inconsequential flock of geese
came by to tell me it’s coming.
I love fall but I hate
the heavy, wet, wool blanket.
Not as graceful as the geese
and desirous of destruction,
my blanket wants me gone.
Forever. Into nothingness.
This morning, I swim inside
forests and above warm hills,
feeling a part of it all,
not failing, but then
there is that one human who tells me,
who cages me and hangs me
out to dry so all the beasts can feed,
and I am gone.
I try to come back.
I try to survive,
but I’m made wrong,
and I drown
in the hatred of the beasts.
stillfugue 
#1 by Carl D'Agostino on September 15, 2011 - 5:22 am
even a blanket of new fallen snow is not so cruel
#2 by Carl on September 22, 2011 - 9:40 pm
Light blankets are nice
#3 by scribbla on September 15, 2011 - 6:05 am
This was incredible. Your opening stanza is a zinger and it continues throughout. I’m blown away.
#4 by Carl on September 22, 2011 - 9:41 pm
Thank you for stopping by and commenting, Andrew. Your compliment is a rich reward. I’ve been crawling under the floorboards so sorry for the tardy response.
#5 by Evelyn on September 21, 2011 - 12:31 pm
“An inconsequential flock of geese
came by to tell me it’s coming.”
perfect.
#6 by Carl on September 22, 2011 - 9:43 pm
Thank you. I liked that too and almost wanted to end it there but I am a blabbermouth.