For Conner and the Future

Stranded at a crossroad
and weeping watching
you
wilfully departing

—in part for painting?
over hills that I haven’t conceived of
I haven’t struck my flint
for fear of failure
in fire
but sparks
speak sometimes
and it’s never been anyone’s responsibility
but my own
and with that knowledge
I centered this poem

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s