Here we are again, and as groundlings go Stiff-armed through a hazy maze of souls Treading round life's "merely thus" and "just so," Hope-fed wanderers without a goal. 5 Though blind and timeless as dreaming egos, Though blitzed and witless as new-birthed foals Who stumble upright without knowing how We touch each other while shouldering shoals. Two swimmers, caught in clasps, will drown 10 While paired porpoises dauntlessly play Their thousand doubtless hours almost as one, Touching but as frolic bids them stray. So we, blind rounds encased in caustic cares, Should play at light and sight, however unaware.
From the collection "Supposing Roses"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.