Song of Extancy Obliquely now I see This life in good form Tears shreds of dignity From me. Dark this room, this womb-- Harsh angularity, my person Lies folded in fetal form, Desisting. Psychic regression some say But no, no way to go back Or either proceed; it is blankness I seek. There now, fatal song, Your lyrics sung, move me Down to seek my end Quickly. Scattered ashes lie On waves that, gently cresting, Sigh while spirits soar above, Singing. Randy Guess ©1998 [About The Poet]     [How Could I Ask For More?] [A Sweeter Dragon Flame]     [The Devil and the Fourth of July] [Wrestling Hemingway]     [Wiggleworm]     [Short-Timer]     [Song of Extancy] [A Silent Paean]     [When Leaves Fall]     [Bipolarity]     [Weeping Willows] [Rainbow Color Reality]     [Hear The Mountains Calling]     [A Matter of Time] [Fair and Moldy Muse]     [Ode to a Scottish Lass] [In Praise of Earth and Sky and Sea] [Understanding Anne Sexton] [Home]    [What's New] [Short Stories]    [Philosophy]    [Forums] [Webrings]    [Biographies]    [Site Index]    [Contact] [Extras]    [Links]    [Copyright] <top>