watching summertime spears tossed by dull grey
wavering, yet upheld by firmest of hands
worn dying and appearing to fail still
yet rooted in most enduring of all

now, stilled in a second of thoughtful vision
hoping to steal a dream as if happenstance
like winter seed waiting for sunn hoping to dance
created, yet now bound and held inform

how I loath being human, cursed to be infirm.

Date Added: Friday August 19, 2005 - [permalink]