We Share …

We share a long road, a loud stage:

The snake, the soldier, the lord and I,

Learning from each other that bad,

In some circumstances,

Can be quite the opposite

But that wrong is always wrong.

We feel the earth move –

In  a good way –

Around us, feel the warmth,

The support

As well as the cold.

The Crocus Road

The small, out-of-history,

Far away lights in these

Big, darkening skies make

Reassuring noises; the shadows

Do not clash and threaten.

The horizon is a pale-line queen

Swooning beneath a ripped-tissue

Curl of early-spring-promise  moon.

The crocus road is longer, much longer

Than I could have expected and I start

To fall towards a gentle, butterfly death.

The Obvious Fact

On this

Eve-of Aurora night

It can easily appear that

Every life is a cloudy draw.

If you can’t sit,

Can’t ride, the melancholy

And the expectations, then

The storm and the roads

Gonna see you off.

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First, the Arriving …

From the fog,

From the foam;

First, the arriving,

Then the striving –

Get it right,

Keep it tight –

On the roads,

On the ropes.

Between the round one corner

And the canvas

Is nothing more than physical pain.

Why so worried ?

13/4/2013