Monday, April 28, 2014


No instrument by which I’ve reckoned
Could tell me where the summer flies
No demon perched astride a second
Could say “Here, where my left leg lies
She loves you still, but on t’other side
You are for her as things that were
But safe among the dead reside.”

An unmarked border, no fence, no sign
“Your money is no good, your ways
Are strange to us. New stars shine
Than those you knew on other days.
Your marvellous lies none care to know.”
When did your pockets fill with dust?
But step lightly as you go
If strength won’t do then cunning must.

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