Friday, 2 January 2015

How I would like to go

It tasted like good wine
As he rolled it over his tongue
Inscrutable experience stood to attention
And dug its trenches within the lines of his face

Remembering the name of our mistakes
The candelabra and her grandfather clock

The lake glowed pink under a renaissance sky
Over lowered shoulders and shaking hands
With unstoppable, indomitable courage
It was coming

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