Tuesday, February 28, 2017


The shortened second month comes to its end,
And I am unsure that I can defend
What I have done as I sought to wend
My way through each of the month's too-few days
That, although few, have stood tall as a maze
And hindered passage. I've been in a daze
As I have walked about and done too little well,
Doing nothing to avoid the hell
To which I seem bound upon death's knell--
For I have not fought Stupid God's desire
Or th' wrinkled citrus avatar on hire,
Not fought against the building fun'ral pyre
That even now is kindling. Soon, the blaze
Will leap up and devour all our days.

No comments:

Post a Comment