The quarter-tone upon the hour
Sweeping lights across the sky
An interlude of almost power
Pulling me up high
The night is dark and fathomless
The sea is deep and moves along
An interlude of almost something
Sort of like a song
The fence I will not go beyond
The thoughtless deed I dare not do
The ruination of a dream
That’s swallowed up in rue
The sailboat tosses with the waves
The clouds blow fast above the earth
The passages of inclinations
We will not give birth
For as I live, I fathom less
Of all I come to see and know
An interlude of almost falling
Falling down, like snow
The quarter-tone upon the edge
Of what night is and ere must be
An interlude that sure must end
A me that must be
Merely
Me
(“Fathomless” – 2-17-2017)
wow…that was a gorgeous poem!
Thank you, Megan! — Owen
Beautifully uplifting, your poem so softly acknowledges all our human frailty. I love it. And now (being irresponsible) I would love to hear you read it too.
Holly