4493. THE WHITE CLOUD OF YOUR RESPONSIBILITY

THE WHITE CLOUD OF

YOUR RESPONSIBILITY

Like crimson yellow, or alizarin blue,

certain things just don't exist : where

this is so, other things do. It's just like

that, that's all. Something akin to a

translation  -  so many dead ends, so

very much malfeasance and skirmish.

When one face blushes, another

face must turn an ashen gray.

-

I know right where I am standing. Ten

years of stories had gathered for my

collecting  -  and yet I am betrayed again

by someone looking downward at my field

of squash and squalor. I feel ashamed anew. 
- 
Yet, this Thor-hammer hand that I still wield
shall not change its way. I will slumber nor bend.
Let the dead bury the dead.