the Rustic toiling
alongside th’ Embellish’d
molds a Way of Life
alongside th’ Embellish’d
molds a Way of Life
your eyes
reflect’d mine
slowly drown’d
in a thickset fog
… for a moment
my mind
became abstract
a caldron
of turbulent thoughts
then mindless
… for a moment
I was in love
I am in love
forever
at least
… for a moment
and now Heaven’s Brew crashes
o’er my lodgings
into the blueness
stirring ever brightly
‘twixt th’ Eastern Valley
and tears are spoken again
on Time’s wake
binding myself with old vows
will ever I keep?
‘twas this another cycle
by Nature’s hand?
or by industry
and a turbulent cloud
by covetous ancients
who cared only
for their own lifetime?