The merits of mere stasis we extol / As if the middle ground’s a magic tool / Why seek to steer what moves beyond control? / We try to hold it still, then watch it roll…
Tag: futility
Sonnet XXIII – The Map a River Makes
And now, behold, the deluge comes anon; containers burst and none can stand the wash.
the blender
A month goes by, then years, they blend
Sonnet XVI – Time Tasting
That day shall come, too soon , notfastenough;
Six Flags falls on Hard Times
open, but just barely.
defying atrophy 