Too often i still
find myself
taut, tense
in a stance,
ready again
for the next advance
upon my senses;
questioning everything,
looking under the rug
don't you realize
how smug you stand there
without knowing
your slip is showing,
how i find
so many averted eyes
at that crucial moment?...
Mine are hidden in a myriad
of flashing Emotion;
too quick, too fleeting,
too intense for some
this is a rolling, reeling Ocean;
some would sooner
walk the plank
than try to figure out
all this commotion
and it was even too
much for the Pan...
But he died as he began
a soft whisper,
not a bang,
a slowly closing door,
just a few lines of a song he sang
but for years the Clarion he rang...
Feb. 1, 2015
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