If I am to return to this life it
won't be as a brown snake I
killed this afternoon or mosquito
that died violently this morning
no chance I’d make amends for
their passing by being them
I could be a straw that broke
the camel’s back; maybe I am
and regret serial incidents
still happening – hard to say
the fact is I’m on a limb and
beyond wrack or reason
Thoughts no more suicidal than
random gusts of lambent wind
shirr dreams I’d rather forget
seems I’m bound in the shame
of your leaving metastasized
by letting you go
© 25 September 2009, I. D. Carswell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem