photo: Stephen Alsford
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Burned-out candle of snow-white anger, Rain and tulips, man and moon-trips; On my way home from the reaches I became a half-past preacher. You deceivers, unbelievers, Broken-hearted were we parted From the state of perpetration Set perpetual as our station; Life my steeple, sheep as people, No blind fate I contemplated, Chaste the vow – I said it grinning – Wed the wheel that set me spinning. Now encased by heaven's grace, I Bear bad weather, without ever Knowing fear or understanding What strange course caused my crash-landing In this primate sea of my vanity, Weaving splashes from sack and ashes. Anger's candle burns love for others, Contradicts: calls my sisters brothers. |
| (1974) |
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photo: Stephen Alsford |
| Created: November 17, 2014. Last modified: December 28, 2014. | © Stephen Alsford |