Surviving the Fog
A Post Apocalypse series by Stan Morris
And Finally a Little Poetry
Pall's Poem
I don’t pretend I know a lot,
about the world in which you slide.
It’s hard to speak to people, you know
I’d rather go spacing and hide.
But I see it makes you happy,
to hang out with a group.
And I know you never mind,
when the group becomes a troop.
So, I stay by your side and wait to see
if your eyes will turn to me.
Unwanted Memory
Stop! Stop cold
The recall of a dream foolishly told
A fantasy, a vain hope, a memory
Unwanted, unwelcomed
Stop! Leave me alone.
Until the Day
Until the day we see you again
we will not know what you might have looked like.
We will not hear you call our names,
‘til we see you again.
Until the day we see you again,
we will not know who you have become.
And we cannot teach you what we wished you to know,
‘til we see you again.
Until the day we see you again,
Mama and I will not hold you in our arms.
But we will always love you as if we did,
‘til the day we see you once again.
Tomorrow
Tomorrow I will be philosophical.
Tomorrow I will be grateful.
Tomorrow I will accept my age.
But today I will feel the ache of my fleeting heart.
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