The Circle Unbroken (+3)

So far from where I started,

I wrote my final words

 

And found a stream to fill the well,

with verses left unheard

 

My last line most important,

leading back toward the first

 

The circle left unbroken

—all doubt now quenched of thirst

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

 

 

I Charge Within

 

I put a saddle on the wind,

and rode it through the storm

 

The bridle placed, the buckle cinched,

the reins, my horse reborn

 

Inside each stirrup passion spurs,

the present now in hand

 

Behind whose mane I charge within

—in search of who I am

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

 

 

A Gray Dawn

 

The gray dawn slaughters

the promise of Spring,

Winter’s desperate last goodbye

 

Its poisonous haze mocks

a sky forsaken,

the sun again denied

 

Its blanket lowers

in a shroud of judgment,

its verdict darkly stained

 

To deluge its exit

in torrents of thunder

—as light reflects in vain

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

 

 

 

Visceralis

 

Writing doesn’t become immortal,

until you leave the words behind

 

Feelings left to light the way

—in moments undefined

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)