I can’t sleep tonight. So I’m looking through some old poems and working through them. Some poems are more important to me than others. Here is one I think I’ve now completed. It was originally written in 2004 – it was a sonnet then. I think I’m satisfied with it now.
The Unweaving Of It All
Because the brush of time and space
has swept its soothing smoothing
strokes upon the raveled fringes
between what was and now
means not that I don’t sometimes dwell
in long abandoned shadowed realms.
I do return
to glimpse once more discordant themes
in frequent fitful states of slumber.