Primordial that world and we
are partners in identity.
We're played on strings so written-in
to being here, without sins
of chains hammered on the young
by slavers of the heart and tongue.
Though shaped by eons of history,
we're the readers of this library.
What we gather is so much more
than buzzing things of fumble-lore.
Yet should we treat the future badly
flies be the only intentionality
and should worse befall - distress -
return life to unconsciousness
where bacteria is queen and knave;
and silent falls the sleeping wave.
..
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Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
