0 69 0


Date Written: October 12, 2017

Not looking back, not looking back –
for the jockey this is all. He has,
all of him, stamped out, some when, some time
in a trice, on horseback or beyond,
where he must lose. So our trysts later
construct us, and our beliefs, whether in
odds or evens or oblivion, take for granted
each course of ill will, each
driving, hooving skein.
Thus the champion riding through the glen with
a fire so enchanted, was once
enchained. His girl, so blown, so free,
once so slow. But he must not look back. He
sees light, and must enthrone his ends, must
cross into a field of thieves. Now,
in title and hoard, he is a thief;
must ride around the bend.

Leave a Reply

No image closedown… And, ahha, when cold children marry devsThen giddy digitalis must…
by Jim Bellamy
0 75 0
No image this i know (after Dylan Thomas)  Unlucky for a mindshaking with sadness underthe liars yet to…
by Jim Bellamy
0 60 0
No image unleavened?  Ooon the feasts of unleavenedthe only flesh eaten will be…
by Jim Bellamy
0 40 0

Jim Bellamy

Send message