online literature since 2007

Saturday, March 14, 2009

an unfinished poem i began years ago that i completed today

inner turmoil like the fighting of the morning's last light -
that brisk kind of ship that takes you back to yourself again

the killing of the turmoil, fighting like the last light of the morning.
you briskly take that ship back for yourself again.

what kind of indifference moves me to stillness?
killing the ships of the morning, you fight against yourself.

stillness, like the last light of the morning
briskly indifferent to yourself and your needs.

fighting, you destroy the ship that takes you back
to yourself again, and briskly kill the last of the morning's light.
all is still in the glow of my indifference.

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