Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Single Cell

I have been asleep these many years.
My one time pad once at the ready,
has languished this past decade in
a back room's forgotten drawer.

What was my purpose? Now with
the shop, my children, an ex-wife,
and a few hundred dollars in the bank,
my once torn roots are nurtured in new soil.

Far from Idaho, far from St. Jerome.

When the morning comes, I will be
sad to wake from this dream. I don't
remember why. Why must I be the
man of my youth? I am no longer that man.

When the call comes, I may choose not to answer.


2 Comments:

  • At 3:18 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Nice!

    Dui Fri

     
  • At 11:35 PM, Blogger gordon said…

    evocatively melancholy. You're dreamin' in your own private Idaho.

     

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