Monday, August 31, 2009

The Poet's Hovel.

to open up the inner eyes
to see behind, where clear thought
shies away from light,
away from spies
who'd hope to glean
their mask-less guise

And spoil life's one last great surprise.

into this void I'd dare to wade
where shapeless forms likely forbade
those like myself whose timelines braid
one starkly lit
one drenched in shade

Where lives go on but memories fade.