Too Late

29 10 2012

The irresistible thing,
sweet on the plate;
circle it and
want it
but heed the warning:
not the kind
with skull and crossbones;
not the kind
with alarm bells.
A scribbled red letter whisper:
under the photograph
of one who wanted
the thing you want too.
Taste his regret
for ever bringing
his hand to his mouth.
An inviting impulse,
a succulent second
directly dissolved:
“Oh lack of resolve!”
Too late.

— Teresa Klassen

Oh Esau; how sad. From Hebrews 12:16-17. At the start of a difficult parenting season. The day I decided to write poetry again.




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