Realities

Realities

Walking through the summer rain,
I marveled I’d found love, again,
But when I turned for his embrace,
I met myself, face to face.

Life is but a fool’s illusion,
an exercise in self-delusion;
noon is sweet midnight’s womb,
life, harsh mother, to the tomb.

April 5, 2003

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About elrondsilvermaul

I never know what to say about myself. I let what I write try to speak as to who I am. I can only add, here, that I am 72, live in a nursing home, am twenty years a cancer survivor, and identify as a gay male. I intend to use this blog as storage for poems? written over the long years (and still being written). This does not preclude other uses.
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