Ramble: Consternation

I want to be more than this tangled mess of feelings
You fill me with want and panic and sweet dread
Concrete shoes upon my feet pulling me down
Into the eternal green of wine-tossed seas

There is no hope
No escape from what I am
Once upon a time
I had dreams
Sweet as summer clover
Waiting to be mown
Raked into windrows
Dried beneath summer sun
Now I am fallow emptiness
Overgrown with scrub
And Goldenrod
Copse of young black willows
Bending flat in the wind
You are innocent catalyst
releasing demons long suppressed
I am winnowed chaff
scattered by ancient winds
across fields you will never see.

Shall we have a conversation?

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