Archive 06/17/10 - (1)

   

Casting Our Lots

                                                                  

This bespelling June morning spells escape.

A gentle temptress, loving seductress,

New-bidden muse of mine

Has thrown her enchantments over my welcoming spirit.

I follow my piqued instincts not blindly

But not with completely reasoned insight, either,

As she and I prepare to cast our lots, in Manhattan,

Hoping destiny will select us,

Out of all those millions who know not each other,

To be its two chosen —

Together, forever, in a closeness defying anonymity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                               

 

06/17/10 - (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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