Apr 19 2019

Dim recognition
in a familiar setting
brightened my corner.

Mitts raised, in front of my face,
I took a defensive stance.

What do I stand for?
Words, like sharp and hollow straws,
form a hexagram.

“Innermost Sincerity”
restrains my cock-crow at “God.”

However, the lines fall;
weather the seasons’ change;
my grave will bear the mark.

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