Survivors

Survivors

Friday, October 27, 2017

To See


©  Steve King  2017
All rights reserved


To see.
Such distractive sense.
The eye goes everywhere
there is a movement,
or that unsought touch,
or faint reflective answers
in another’s distant voice.

Always something here
to hold a moment and mind.

Yet still impossible to spy
the one who masquerades as me
in all that waiting world
where these fool scenes unwind.



Sunday, October 1, 2017

Sonnet Six


© 2017 Steve King
All rights reserved


I don’t know what there is to write of love,
though others fill such pages quite with ease.
I can’t distill all meanings as I please,
describe sensations which are true enough
to colonize all realms of thought.  I pause
at each astonishment that visits me,
and every unsought thrill that comes to be,
and never work to wonder of their cause.

All sly analogies escape my care,
and each coquettish fancy that occurs
belies the feeling that ought only stir
in truest commerce with the heart’s affairs.

            In grand comparisons I will not delve,
            for love should seem like nothing save itself.