I might just sit here for a bit. Here, where I am at once everyone and no one. Where I can hear men talking, dog-walking.
Let me premise this by saying that this is not intentionally about death and I am not dying (except to get out of school). Once
We are mariners, mariners we, made for the land, parted from sea from that second day and still – striving as on the earth to
Easter morn rose grey with fog -anticipation hid- No dawn’s light to testify to what the Savior did. . Still we know and sing aloud
Awhirl before my eyes did swirl the sparks As one by one the candles turned to smoke And sitting there in silent, stillest dark, A
What should I be doing? Studying for my 20th Century Music History midterm. What am I doing? Learning to write rondel poetry. But, if I