Feigning a Fine Fettle

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Yours the Hand


Shadow and fog blind my peril at sea,

and waves batter the vessel that bears me.

But you are the lighthouse blazing on land

That guides me through the deep night to safety.


Now this city loud with light: grab my hand

and guide me once again to understand

this seeming that makes life bright from nothing

even as unto nothing life shifts like sand


Just like the cycle we are all turning,

sharply waking from sleep without dreaming

To find stars anchored still in the vast dark

above as we below lie wondering.


So here we listen to the other’s beating heart-

Who can know if this arrow will divine its mark?

But yours is the hand I’d hold in the deepest dark,

yours the hand I’d hold as we walk into the dark


Give it to me straight.

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