Late April Afternoon
The green, green grass
Softens my expanse of yard
And I do see it green, green
Though I’m a color-blind bastard of unwanted birth
At least from my father’s recounting
The setting sun so soft and warm
This late April afternoon
A Brahms piano waltz
Dances me to the precipice of clarity
The residua of a decaying carcass
Barely breaching my olfactory groves
So close to my beloved amygdala
I remember nothing
I recall everything
So green, green, green
Ezriel Kornel
April 28, 2009
Lovely< i like how you merge poetry and medicine
ReplyDeleteNever thought I'd come across the word "amygdala" in a poem. I once wrote a poem entitled "Amygdala" over thirty years ago when I was in college. It's sort of suprising to know that someone else would use this word in a poem.
ReplyDelete