I’ve never studied
What the Poets say
Nor worried much
How they place their words
Or why that way
I do not know
How to write a sonnet
I am not sure
What makes pentameter
Iambic
I hope that’s OK
Intentional purpose
Inexorable decay
Dynamic tension
Eternally entwined
I remind myself
The darkness is always present
Even in the brightest light
Its balance is available
I remind myself
The light is not too bright
Rather my eyes remain
Accustomed to the darkness
As comfortable as I am
With the window
And its pretty scene
Offering distraction
As respite
It occurs to me
Pass through the window
No matter
All the miles
I’ll go
The turn for home
Eventually comes
Curves twist back upon themselves
Built for speed
Lived at a Main Street pace
The paradox
Of a mechanical world
As seen from this virtual realm
Because here am I
Everywhere at once
Yet nowhere at all
And some roads are the long haul
Running straight and narrow
Ending somewhere beyond the horizon
Roll onto one of these
And I’ve made a commitment
Right to the end of the line
I love the places
Which carry the past
Into the present
Better still, the places where
Past and present co-exist
Without need for justification
They seem to be much
Grander
Than the times I’m living now
I create them like
A dream
All lofty and sublime
Believing there’s
A truth
To the beauty of the lie
