Thursday, December 04, 2014


The tall tree of hope clad in a bark of ages
That now fissures and shreds down to earth
Like gulls that catch stale bread on the wing
Or a windmill entrapping the world's breath
Then of what may exit and what may stay
When dreams begin to cut upon the edge of day
And all I wish is to take my leave to a pardon
Like an unwilling debt, years of neglect harden
When night gives way again to yet more light
Who will kiss the wind and say goodnight