Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Keyword #1: resistance (in shades of etymology...and pretention, it seems)

ramparts loom
above the dusk, quiet, assuming
the isolation sewn
from strands of a self
in retreat

carousing steep stages
unrepentant of this
object, if I'd
only relented
an age ago

if I'd
abjure, if only
recognize--obtest
vertigo's mournful hues--
panes of sky broken
beneath the rising weight
of regret.

1 comment:

Martyn Conterio said...

This has got a very chilly, haunted vibe. I especially thought the first stanza very strong. :)