I must leave room for the poet.
An iconic photo from the streets of Seattle seemed to be appropriate, it needed to nest in the arms of a sonnet.
Thanks Slatz...
December 10, 2006 (10:19am), Sunday
METENSOMATOSIS
I walk in darkness with a heavy burden
uneven ground beneath my stumbling feet.
I do not know the contents of my burden.
I lack desire. I do not know need.
The darkness does not end with morning light.
The sun will never warm these scraping bones.
The dark is blindness. Never ending night.
The load I carry on my back, sharp stones.
I stand enchanted in an open door,
a fellow citizen with sun and wind
of eternal loveliness in endless store.
Necessity does not require a plan.
I am these two men and others less defined.
Each a temporary resident of mind.
"Copyright © 2006 by F.R. Bresgal"
