01 July 2015

Reacquaint


















No, it didn’t reacquaint me with the past - like 
graffiti of an age which lasted far too long, it’s 
strayed as runes inscribed in place of reason 
less the common-sense; once that meant we 
had a chance, no-one ever learned which of 
the words we’d keep to tune again a harp to 
play the choices we parlayed without intent 

So no, I will not wander back to stay - keep it 
to yourselves; I’m content so far away where 
harmony is less your spacious breath of debt 
pretentiously abusing what we’d once agreed 
had meant accord; as such I’m free, a soldier 
cleared of conscience once again 

© 27 January 2015, I. D. Carswell