Sunday, December 04, 2011

At the End of Night


At the End of Night

I exist
to be conquered
I, set against all other I’s,
even nature, am a stillborn
poem taken out
of  my mother’s pain. 
Once I was immortal
beside the sea
condemned to endless mornings,
empty of the knowledge
of manmade rituals
until out of my mouth that knows
came the shape I was seeking
for reason.  
Now I am lost among 
the stiff trees.

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