Archive 06/26/10 - (4)

   

Blind Man

                                                                  

This drizzle-dizzy Saturday night

Isn't the full-moon evening I'd believed it would be,

Rather a resounding letdown,

For this upper-Wisconsin rain,

Which has persisted despite a brief clearing at twilight.

 

No matter how I've prayed for the rain's negation,

It's come, by fitful fits and starts,

Canceling my most potent hopes for cessation

And, in its gray, dismal arrogance,

Denying me my prime desire to rise epiphanic,

 

Inspired by preternatural wonder,

On reaching the nexus of psyche and sky,

In the silver glow of destiny's sublime lunar ecstasy.

Yet, like a blind man, I've seen the full moon rise

Somewhere behind the eyes behind my mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                               

 

06/26/10 - (4)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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