Sunday, July 13, 2014


Mercurial so you think me
Yet I am older than the earth
Younger than tomorrow; wiser than hindsight
I delineate the boundary of time
There is no quill with feather enough to write
My steps to a half delivered dance
For why would folly seek solace?
When destiny call me by name a fool
For in these pages there is nothing
But the unfolding of gentle things