Holiday End
for Keith Russell
though it might take a while,
checking out of this hotel
my body is, out of this life I’m living
noon is fast approaching
I know I must go, I must leave
even extensions allowed are limited
when that hour arrives
I must have my bags packed
luggage waiting when chariot
swings low to carry me home
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:44 p.m. 29/10/07
for Keith Russell
though it might take a while,
checking out of this hotel
my body is, out of this life I’m living
noon is fast approaching
I know I must go, I must leave
even extensions allowed are limited
when that hour arrives
I must have my bags packed
luggage waiting when chariot
swings low to carry me home
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
7:44 p.m. 29/10/07
posted by Obie Quiet at 5:00 AM
2 Comments:
The mix of holiday and chariot to home...gets me thinking...are we indeed on holiday here on earth..very nice poem
And is every body a holiday inn?
Even though I must contemplate longer and more deeply, insight you bring to these words and ideas I assumed were my own - I assumed I owned.
Thanks a lot for looking, thinking and responding. Much love and appreciation as always.
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