Does angst from past destructions,
envelope growth from such,
do self-made wounds
realize the bounds
of imagined life?

I’ve seen the torch;
is there thus
that will reach
across the breach
into my life?

Does sorrow of vast excursions,
overpower reality’s version
of roughened love
of living life?

I’ve seen the reach,
the need to teach
that can breach
a human life.

Does borrowing a life’s experiences
lessen future visions
of toughened love
of future life?

Erin Moen
11/12/03
Copyright 2003 ©

Companion piece:

the pounding patter
of saddened rain
invades my soul
as I lean
against the screen

Copyright 2003 ©