That fey persuasion I need to write these words
before I go to sleep strays into no-man’s land; I
am too far from the PC, & my MacBook Air has
already long since retired - there’s no peace for
having failed t’ seek repairs in th’ year since its
demise, of drowning in a spilled glass of wine -
if it could speak I’d listen carefully - be hitherto
inclined to agree with accusations of apostasy
But th’ way isn’t at all that clear; a midday nap
took pride of place for what should have been
creation of a poetically innovative apology; tho
I can’t claim I dreamed of it - was there before
eyes shut and I drifted bodily away from deed
and damnation - which stays hauntingly alive
And yet, even then - the poem has survived
© 15 January 2018, I. D. Carswell
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