“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Friday, June 17, 2016
My right, your left
It all worked out,
things, that is,
what are nows
are exactly how they
should have been
we never needed
to worry and plan
all that armament
and added security
all for nought
knowing it would be good
as the old days
back then when it was
too dark to see
ahead or two
eyes do nothing
but distract, in fact
you made it that way
blindly feeling
your way
past
ifs
extrasensory gifts
finding a fit
and working your way
back out.
Image of painting by George Frederic Watts, c. 1886, Hope [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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