Picture a castle on a rocky island in a loch

This island is not a man, yet
character and memory bleeds
from its pores – the gash of life
fought from these windows
a step back in time. See the days
flash on sunlit stone.

This castle is a choice to stand
on its own, take what is doled out,
accept, absorb, absolve.

 

yesterday’s postcard poem on its way to Atlanta, Georgia 

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