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:

Anonymous said...

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.