en Fuego'

I was en fuego
when you found me
dying on a doorstep

I was intaglio
as I crawled down
to the river

that river went up
and covered my feet
and my heart leapt

But I could not spring free
I was ridiculed
so I slept

Water does not hold
it soaks or boils
so I was free

I was braggadocio
but another tagged me
and I was inept

I was then saggio
for knowing my own cry
so I finally had ...
... eventualities.

And silenzioso,
by my doorstep perch,
with no reserve, you crept.






Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell