July 16, 2016
A different diffident is afoot.
But still when all’s been said
But still not done,
When waiting was a silent art worth it.
Now acting up mustn’t be shushed.
Not a tragedy of errors.
I’m fit to plot my way by fears,
By mist-led thoughts, clear by hushed omens,
Past icons, on through all the usual cues,
On to unknown, outta town one way roads. less lost