Formernesses Recalled


“Is it up?” she wantonly cried
I knew not how and yet
For lost were we in that
Conjecture manifest

… Untongued

… Momentarily

… Eternally

I knew not how and yet
Still know not yet
In retrospect

Grasping at straws as I may
As any of us ever may
This camel’s broken back
Added to the score


About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on August 19, 2018, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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