MLK Monday
Wendling
No matter the winds I bind with strings and knots
within my bags, or whether the way I tack
and sail against the headlong gale, the night
is my sole mate, as into its arms I sail.
No matter the trail or virgin blaze I trek
across the land, or whither I go and stop
and sing as through its woods I go, my path
is my own, and shared 'tis not, alas.
The Norse cast runes, the Finns sing runes, and Uller
wanders both, but like that eastern hunter
I am without horns nor folk; I wander free
But only free, the night is mine own too.
No future but my own I see, my own
I will refute; and yet I walk it still.
- July 6, 2007Happy
Birthday,
drucifer13
& sanityescapesme!
Remember
Martin Luther King, Jr.
Update
Am on Holidays; might update tomorrow?
Marker
Nine years ago was my last night in Birmingham before moving to Chattanooga, IIRC.