March 29, 2006

Alone, I wait, alone in prison bound
How came I to be here I do not know
So deep entombed I cannot hear a sound
So long entombed beneath the silent snow.

O where the sun? o where the warming glow?
Memory of light seems but a children's tale
Memory of darkness binds to all I know:
I shout, I scream, voiceless, to no avail.

Alone, I reach out, touch this cushioned jail:
Memory of touch, memory of kindness mocks
This wakeful dreaming of a distant grail –
A distant key? I myself am the lock!

Wings once chill with damp, enshrivelled with cold
A thousand shattered spectrums now enfold.

(edit into August 16, 2005)

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