Desolation dreamed, of a less Golden cage
So my heart to rocking
Like a song in a boat
On a rainy day, without fish
To every face, I say farewell
Which of my possession do I propose to leave?

My jeweled faith or my
Unfaithful friends, desolation holds
This feigning to be asleep
When wide awake is all the loneliness
I shall ever achieve, I must leave

The fast-reddening sun to her own stride
Drops, against the open sky loom
Larger in the heart of this weary traveler
Home to a wordless hush of memories
I must speak in silent words to myself

Desolation dreamed, of freedom in a Sonnet
Somebody long ago, must have lost poetry
To insanity, dust which here and there
Floats in a short dazzling beam
Ready to give in to intangible dreams

So my heart to hoping in all directions
Like a song curving and delicate
Must stop, for all music ends
There is something to be learned, I guess
From looking at the starts for many years.

One thought on “THE PLUM GATHERER

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