The verbose ramblings of memory’s script,
A loquacious brimming cup to which I bid myself sip,
An evanescent longing to drink deep and ponder,
These dreams of expectation I contemplate no longer.
Time has past from my sinuous youth,
A spiraling existence of loosing tooth after tooth,
From virtuous climax to gorges of shame,
Extensive transformation allows little to remain.
Musing of tomorrow and what turns it might take,
Thoughts to be built and then several to eradicate,
Perpendicular arms stretched out skyward,
Ranking arrogance next to coward.
The simple silence of presence’s suspense,
Listening for something lacking in substance,
A quiet moment I accept as does come,
For such a chance as this occurs consequently seldom.