What do we do with this darkness,
wanting to forgive but angry at the unspoken, the tourniquet of unspent favors, unfavored by God in this moment - striking stones, snakes coil at that thought of the meanness of the moment when we will strike. But I didn't do it then. I missed out on the opportunity of a life of gall, spreading out among all of the rest of the star-gazers who will likely look past us all; it will take another trial before we can see clear, wipe the glass, the wind that shields us from our feelings. It's all I can do to start here and now. A classic approach to others that will now be molded into the past, into future dates, schedules locked onto whatever we can be last at baking in sun scalded items of our minds, we mind this talk here. It's only so we can reconcile accounts. © 2016 Larry Ingram
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Welcome to the poetry web site of Larry Ingram. Larry is a poet, writer and observer of our culture. Categories
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