Room 189

December 25, 2016

Nature seemed absent from his eleven years:
prone to boredom, sweating inherent chutzpah,
he guessed the weakness of a home library
never failing to impress commoners and
scholars alike. Was him just the same, was he
no miracle? By all means. & quite a lack
of essence, all around him.

So it came, six summers later, a pursuit
of vision, long before knowing it meant breach,
long before knowing there are no seasons, no
homestead (the sudden glimpse of a norse cottage,
sole ectype he’ll meet), nor a day of harvest,
only of surrender; that the best late bloom
is the one which never comes.

2 Responses to “Room 189”

  1. Sende Says:

    very good one!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: