A poem written at 2 am entitled “Solitaire”
Traveling on the same road
Over and over
When does it end?
The river runs deep
But has run dry
Though it rains hard.
Laying in the fields
Of poppy
Leave me hypnotized…
The hands of time
Merge into one
Where does this all go?
Sparks flew
Into the heavens
Iron turns to rust.
The young maiden
Sits and waits
For the spring harvest.
Now drink
From this chalice
The song of retribution.
