Blog Title Photo

Blog Title Photo

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Principles



a rush . . .
as if all that was tall straight and stable
were now bending.

twinkling
a sleepy amazement
about all that men built

from the window of a late cab
speeding home
I no longer care enough
of what will or can or might happen.

the tide of events
spins irreverent, a sacrilege
toward a private ending.
my own?
how lonely that would seem.
.
my children my children,
the die is cast
they need me or not at all
at times my wife is a person I cannot talk to

Before her I was unfocused
I had principles I was naive
in love with strangers
eyes to the heavens.
now I focus on the earth ahead.

Yet know I lie buried somewhere
gnawing to find purpose
the source of drive
what is it?
it wakes each cursed day
setting me on a journey
through a disconnected world
listening to a story I cannot hear.


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