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There’s Poison in the Spring — A Memoir

  This memoir is a work of nonfiction. Although creative language is used throughout, special attention has been given to details and facts....

Crepuscular Rays

 Through rusty foliage

on an early

Autumn morn sweet freedom soughs.

Desperate hunger replaced

by fond anticipation. A crowning breath,

sapid respite, a gift not denied.

I have requited much,

But persevered,

Ten-thousand days awaiting but one.

 

Walled behind vindictive condemnation,

Witness to an alien world. Viewed

through newspaper windows

and magazine screens.

I've been fed and clothed and showered

(Moreso than most transient folk.)

I'd eagerly trade a few remorseful years

to be hungry and free. Regret

is most heavy

behind the wall.

 

Victimization is

to deny other of choice.

Governed by fear

and fed with overcooked vengeance,

where does the victim-line end?

Civil trepidation is gravid with child

and there is no limit

to casualty. Just another morsel

to feed the demagogues.

 

A blind and toothless horde

of angry Benevolents; revolving,

expanding, adding victims

and victimizers) and

more victims (and more victimizers)

'til the lines are blurred.

Casualties conjoined for lack of choice

chasing redemption. Entwined

we'll sob and hurt

Ten-thousand days more

Awaiting but one.

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