Past
Bates spoke of the moments that
Whisper the past awake,
But mine sleep still too far between
On my path. Overtake
I do, these fallen, felled branches
With careful bounds. Afar,
I see my future life winking.
I wish upon this star,
A northern star, a forward star
That drifts as if at sea,
To bring, as from the night to dawn,
Nostalgia to its knees
To bless my heart. Yet, I fear it.
It, to the woods I bade;
I sleep beside my naked path,
My blanket torn and frayed.
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