It scratched my vowels asunder,
became the nexus between my yearning
and an inflicted reality
meant to chasten the dreams
of those who dare — mine.
It evaporated the sense of my sentence,
a volatile thought, vanished.
Only the swallows remember
an inkling of what it meant.
It had me on the ropes, this time.
An erstwhile friend slaking my claim
that I belong there where the green
greets the crag, and the drizzle pours
from the clouds that foretell balmy days.