Plus ça change…


Penned some 18 years ago:

Juvenalia/Juvenilia

My thoughts unfold, the air grows cold
As if it knows I’ll need the snows
To quench my mental fire:
My future turns—ignites and burns
Through hope and fear—but leaves me here,
Alas, with no desire!


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *