An unravelling, a
disentangling of strands
meshed in memories, a
warp’s weave and weft
of rare blessing less
the binding cloth
No unscrambling a
mask of regret – loss
left honour in a long
hour forgot, bartered
tattered sanity with
fabric disarrayed
Best wear obscurity
against the cost of
winter’s dread – a cloak
engrossed in need to
intertwine frayed strands
of what had used to be
© 23 May 2011, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment