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All I did all day was to beat dusty mats and a hasty retreat.
Hedges are witness that I had to leave

To do what I love. To Create.

That may seem quite vain and I will never know
... if what I am doing
Is mere Crap or Genius or just in between.

Do U know?

The days that I wander in mist bleak despair
The idea of forever is myth ...so not there...

Nothing can last...not a plant nor a whale
Not an ant nor a bird...not a thing on this planet

Apart from the wood-lice
With their battlement armour
We are all tied together
Collectively alarmed
By the magically act of
The great disappearance

The lands and the seas
Which came and then went
The peoples that built
And the people that wrecked

And now as I write in the world that I live in
Never has cruelty been such a given

For all that it is that we think that we have
We have nothing much left

And that is a fact of the way that we are

Still...I beat mats...still beat a retreat...

It’s the way that some are...they need to express.

Kristine Byrne
23 Feb 23 :00 coincidence or what ? 2012

 

Poems - 2012