October Odds
When I was splashing in the lane,
The colors of the rain
Were ribboning my April sky
Bright hues of years gone by.
Too soon, the boy became
A gambler in a game
Of crushing odds and devil-loaded dice,
The weather weeping ice.
Maturity. I damn the dice that roll
And dare not probe my soul
Where equilibrium is reaved in half,
Where perching gargoyles laugh.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2009
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