I become weary, gracefully disagreeable.
Never as it could be; never as it was.
Maybe better; maybe worse. I ran the good
Fight; I tired short of the goal line.
And you have uncertainty; and you have
Certainty. I could hear it. It dances where
It rivers: sunlit promises, war-bound
Innocence. Maybe more than a glint, a
Glowing heart, a midocean casualty. In
Seeing it was writhing, made existence
Difficult. In sensing it ballet, made for
Lucky absence. I was fraught by dice, edged
By memories, to have unlikely dreams. I
Sit at an impasse; life is chasing swiftly.
