We will take ourselves seriously
when the dark tunnel winds its way
towards us; the tunnel that brings
terrible, difficult things. There are
no fallout shelters to kneel in;
even the sun can be damaging to
the whitest of skin. On a good day,
clouds with tightly, interlocked rims
shield the timid from sorrow.
1 comment:
The titles appear to work as integreal small verses of their own. Fine work, comme j'ai deja ... excuse, me, the english, I mean it flow from one of you title to the other and the poeme.
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