Treasure Island


(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)


The lines
get severed,

the thoughts
thrown back
among pyschic

or resorting
back to classic
tattered old poetry

until something
spurs the soul on,

ancient Warrior
stuck on hill tops,
marooned on islands,

forgotten seconds
I held deep inside
many many moons ago,

I thought I could
remember so much more,

but no...

and now I'm as old
as you were then,

about to be dead
or closer,

no clearer,

just more accepting,
of this small

in how the words should

Submitted: Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, November 26, 2013

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