My friend, he blazes fire; paleness fills
me by comparison. All his lonely
nights have not consumed his spirit. He makes
my heart ache for what I could if only.
I envy his passionate eyes. Mine too
have that capacity; but fear blinds me and
binds me to myself, ‘till I can’t see through
the dark, and I no longer understand.
Why do I fear? What in the end can chance
do to me that’s not already been tried
my ten-fold self seeking remembrance
within a future where frail flesh has died?
Single threads can’t spin tapestries alone;
Can time unweave the shame past fears have sewn?
Copyright Lynn Maire Sager 2008
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