Archive
06/07/09
The Precipice
As I sit on the precipice of this quiet Sunday night, In my company of one, I have an undistorted view of my past four decades:
Just over twenty married years, with Jan, Two months shy of twenty, aligned with Jane — The soulmates, kindred spirits, of my younger life,
Ladies who loved me, fully realizing, Just as I did, through my psyche's unillusioned eyes, That satisfying, placating me was no easy enterprise,
Because I possessed an outsize, introverted, artistic ego, Suffered ecstasy's poetic restlessness, Which cursed me to live an existence
In love with metaphors, images, rhyming vowels, Sing like mystical wind chimes, Ever in quest of verse-treasures to unearth, unsky.
Now, without Jan or Jane, I gaze from this quiet Sunday night's precipice And see my muse down there, beckoning me.
06/07/09
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