As the sands of time
They drip thin line
Marking my passage
Never-ending reprise

I sang like a loon
In a floating saloon
As the sun slow set
Ruby-red, then maroon

I pondered the day
Flying over KLA
In a moonstruck pose
Slow, retching decay

My syllabus was an ode
To my muses, young and old
Destined and fraught
Lightning quick, hot and cold
With a nervous tic
From when I sold my soul

I sat in the piazza
Eating duck fat and pasta
Wondering why my wasted waist
Just one of many errata

Singular in my possession
While plural in my obsession
I acquiesced to
My lingering recession

So pointed, dry and light
Whether in humour or in flight
My baggage was a weight
And my survival, despite

Pernicious without intention
To those closest, an infection
I listened and was caught
Ungrateful at the reception
I surrendered to the steel
And opened for inspection

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1 Response to Surrendered

  1. I sang like a loon –
    love that line 🙂

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