Sunday, August 9, 2009

January: Year-day 11

January: Year-day 11 So here I am: in prison, on an isle, or a satellite circling a dead moon; and I'm likely not to leave, late or soon, likely to only seldom enjoy a smile. It's not because of lives lost in the trial of a wrong war/ or being out of tune with nature, man and/ that Person, my Rune, by most called "God", a name I'd hedge/ awhile. What touches others touches me of course, but circumstance and beings close at heart and my own wants/ have more imprisoned me, drawn me back upon myself, made remorse I don't know how to stave/ the somber barque I drift in; made my cowardice/ the sea. -

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Rhodingeedaddee is my node blog. See my other blogs and recent posts.