Dominion of the Groundhog

by Ben Szwediuk

Idling as I do,
grains showered cold upon impotence,
I paused loose to ponder,
uncounted bitter times,
were I blessed to redraft life.

In jungle of lurid fluorescence
where casually carved
glib outline of my fate
upon weary love's brilliant marble.

Possessed of power of ages
no solace embraced that chisel,
nor blessed the fertile soil
of my unreaped imagination.

Once, twice, a thousand times over,
only shame and folly,
faintly feeble told the tale
of those mournful words I yearned to say,
and deafly fell like tears
in radiance's garden.

Though there, hope no longer goes,
'cept drowned in opiates delusion.
Soon when at last the boatman calls
peace shall sate and conquer all,
this broken heart's confusion.

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