Friday, November 7, 2008

Somber yeoman, standing,
sows seeds; yields them to the wind.
His fields are worried and worn
by the winding ways of air--
arrogant antagonism incorporeal.
Gift-giver to fate, he wastes
and fallows;
somber-standing skeleton farming for famine.


Nothing.

1 comment:

Gunter Heidrich said...

Sober yeoman, drunk bondsman, and they say a student's a student all the same.