DISTORTED BY
SURREPTITIOUSNESS
The five million things tearing
my heart are you and begging
allegiance; no steps in between.
The rain has overflowed the
stop buckets. To collect run-off,
they've been placed strategically
well and are now running over.
I insist I will do nothing about
this at all - to you who sits
by the fire.
-
I remember a long coat that
quite trailed to the floor - all
that black, and the graciousness.
Quality and merit, at the least,
combine to make things right.
Now, at the tail-end of some
dragging Winter you call
delirious and tiresome
and dull, you sit - asking
if I think it will ever
snow again.
No comments:
Post a Comment