poetry, rhyme, Uncategorized

Diary Entry 18:

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February 8th: 6:49am- based on Hector McDonnell’s ‘Temple of the Winds, Mount Stewart’. 7:16am. My dorm.

 

A Room With No View

In a room with no view,

what is there to see,

when elision of vision

forgets what is free?

For if it is free,

what is it that binds

my stare to this square

so bedecked with these blinds?

A pane of the glass through which life is beheld

distances death in the lies that we weld.

For if it is death,

why do I grab grout

to somehow turn in,

what I wish to keep out?

-Amy Struthers

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