Tales of a Poor Poge by Richard Palmer - HTML preview

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WAKING BEFORE DINNER

 

I wake up perturbed
Still sleepy in the afternoon.
The puzzle is again disturbed,
Pieces scattered around the room,

Their meaning elusive and complex.

Yielding again again to those stagnant

Rhythms entreating urging my soul

To further decay.
Entombed in time and starved for meaning,
Shadow mists have trapped my life

And when this small awakening is done

One dying is ended
And another wearily begun.