Hour one

These days anything seems likely to happen–

Donne’s star would be caught and all

mandrakes declared  parents.

Even now I kept hoping you would

finally be human—realize others bleed

and your myopathy healed.

But self is such a cruel master

and all the sacrificed years

flow like silt from the Nile

After springtime rains.

3 thoughts on “Hour one

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *