The sun is setting, I must wait
For somebody to rescue me;
My memories, both slight and great
Won’t do, in any small degree
The service of empowering me.
The courage that I sorely need
Is distant as the Summer sea;
And I’m unsure how to proceed —
But yet: entombed and vacillant
It is, at last, the common fate:
We live as in an avalanche
We wait alone
Alone
We
Wait
(..)
I like this. A lot. And I learned a new word: Vacillant. Lovely 🙂
I love that word. Thanks for reading.
Great poem!
Thank you very much.