confidences

a song, a wind with a tale to tell…

a thought, these thoughts, I always remember so well.

you may see these words and like many, they rattle and ring true;

but dare not think these sounds make me think of you.

no, these things I see, I see from an altered vision,

I put you out; I told you so, but was not for derision.

apt pupils are not the confidences I want to find.

but where and wherefore art those like us, with this strange mind...?

alone.  alone? oh, no …promises that we never are.

we are always so close.  so close! …and yet so far.

try as I may with all my ore and glowing mettle;

the cook still scalds when chef climbs in his kettle.

indoctrinate with stealthy despot steel,

full bellied pot luck hoarders shall have no meal.

patiently I wait… been so long from last time,

when their whispers return to these hounded ears of mine.

if you should doubt, I would laugh but not at last;

for I cannot help that I have seen your past.

history is not forgot but some shrouds are blocked,

I have never been one to have the keys, but keep doors locked.

but no, they do not humor me in this, my infancy.

I long, I want, I wish then instead for apathy.

silently pout and protest as fall prepares to darken days,

then I, ready… for sleep under their dull, cold ways.

so then to end my marked confusion,

oh how weary I become of their pretty illusion.

nothing to see hear... or reason for concern.

yet I cannot reside to die compliant as dust in an urn.

October 2012