Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Madness
I often wonder if I’m mad,
Or if now and then in the past
I was, for was I not love-struck
Such that living without her was
Something I couldn’t bear to do?
But three years later I am perhaps
Living still as though a will
Divorced itself from the downward
Thrust of death which of course
Isn’t the same as bearing to live --
Listing here as though a boat whose
Hull was breached and was left at
High tide far up the beach, far
From the sea it used to sail.
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