© Copyright Iain MacDonald, 2009
These awkward days
In lots of ways
A light weight skylark sings
Who owns the starry sky?
After crimson sunset
Torchlight flashes skyward.
To whom do I belong?
I have no faith
I hope
I am not blind
I cannot see
What’s stopping me
From seeing
The truth.
Wading through the mists of time
I finally realize what lies ahead
Way, way ahead
My destiny.
Now at mid-life
Surely, what’s left of me
Contains the best?
I'll wait and see.
Monday, May 31, 2010
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