Stepping just under the wind…

These are low places
Where as a boy I lay
Eyes close to dirt
And now
Small refuges
Kept in mind

It doesn’t matter
Execution is the chariot
Of genius as Blake said—
Here’s a place to weep
Storm-talk
Continuing above

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto