This place is burning. The days keep on turning. And I... (What about I?) I am yearning - (But for what?) Yearning for the turn. Yearning for the burn. The fire's gone out. The hands on the clock, frozen. I yearn for that which is not, What is - I yearn for not.
Category: By Date
Sometimes poems are titled. Sometimes they are dated. The methodology is not arbitrary; but I haven’t defined it yet.