Sunday, February 17, 2013

The Unnamed

The words are there:
rage, shame, potency.

They circle in a nebula
attaching themselves to the vagaries of our days,
unwitting and unwritten,
waiting to be named.


Anonymous said...

Okay dear poet--you may have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed--

Eric said...

Maybe it was those words that brought him to that point. I found him hanging at the base of a pine tree. I was told he had an altercation with his brother. I never did hear his name.