A drunkard’s guzzled several days,
And staggering outside,
Dull and disoriented, seeks,
But cannot find, a guide.
The hour proclaimed is even six,
Twice daily otium.
The arrow hangs at bottom rim
Like a dead pendulum.
The birth and dying of the light
Are symmetry in dim.
The day is leaching into night,
Or morning’s failing him.
Jun 18, 2021
Jun 18, 2021 at 12:02 PM UTC
A drunkard’s guzzled several days,
And staggering outside,
Dull and disoriented, seeks,
But cannot find, a guide.
The hour proclaimed is even six,
Twice daily otium.
The arrow hangs at bottom rim
Like a dead pendulum.
The birth and dying of the light
Are symmetry in dim.
The day is leaching into night,
Or morning’s failing him.