I’d like to think I know it all,
that what happened with her
was going to happen
as all sure things do.
I was walking through trees, tall
as buildings I’d lived in, slept in,
looked up at with irreverence, felt
the wind go through me like hell.
what I knew was a nothing that
I held closely because I knew it well.
Where I’d gone, what I’d done
people I’d been and been without.
I’d been names of faces I didn't know.
Been bricks and mortar, bold bullet
and target more than I ever will admit
to those that sell me love.
I’d like to think I know it all
that this year winter won’t come
and the sun will rest heavy on a
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Comments about this poem (november by Ben Paynter )
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