Tuesday, May 2, 2017


Rusted rock, frames
School of thought and,
One who mocked once
Standing shocked as plunging down
To gore and grim, I'd fallen, 
Down to demon, Down and in. 
And on him, on those hands of harm lay
Spatters of regret and shame, and
To this day he stands a 
Little not the same.

But peering over settled dust,
I saw. I once had fallen
Up! He spoke. he held those
Spattered palms up, held them
Out as if they'd sun-bake dry
And stop, and stop me as I met my rusted
Rock and earth in downward flight, 
But time bore well her crown
And did not bow. I walked with her then.
Walked and saw where I had fallen
Long before.

No comments:

Post a Comment