Losing Sight


a cylindric mechanism,

always feeding upon a circular

atmosphere constant, needy response

to the world around no matter

time of day, an attitude


we are so fluid though

running through miles of tension

in search of an anchor to compensate I

we want to know a weighted yes

to the dreams we have


in those of us nearby

simple recall when the nigh speaks

peril a spiritual loss of energy in hope

dark shadows search suggestively

their inside bold voice


a beholder’s actual fear

that part of life’s proposal forgotten

yet, we can remember, we can ignite

a natural fire of forgiveness, might

any of us any day, hour


just now is a good time

the best opportunity to react, ask

hold court, a dialogue a piece of … life

for it isn’t inevitable to an ideology

of grace and elegance.