WEBVTT

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Just to break the
mood a little bit--

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of oppression.

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This is a poem that I
wrote several years ago

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and it's a sort of a
truncated line sonnet.

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It's more of a song
than anything else,

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at the moment, titled "Poem."

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"Watching the heron dip in
flight, I see her wandering,

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and I know her ways.

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Her song has snared my brain.

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I know my fate, but I
am silent as the moon.

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She is who I am, and I remain
alive by dreaming what I can.

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I pull the strings,
I play the tune.

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She moves with
light on every limb,

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her shadow lies along the sand.

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Only the moon knows who I am.

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She moves like fire in the wind.

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The moonlight shimmers.

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Her skin is gold.

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The dream is what I
am when I'm alone."

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