Archive 07/24/09 - (2)

   

The Weeks' Warden

                                                                  

The weeks escape me —

Convicts breaking out of my mind's penitentiary,

Slipping into misty history's shadowy forests,

And all I can reasonably do

Is slam their cell doors, on vacated space,

Realizing that catching the weeks

Would be like asking the trees hiding them

To shed their leaves, in July.

 

 

                                               

 

07/24/09 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
       

 

  
   
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