In Virtue I Sin

It was Hemingway

  early

 

And Dickinson

   late

 

Those early

  exposures

 

The trail of

  my wake

 

No bar left

  unvisited

 

Or brawl left

  unfought

 

No school that could

   answer

 

Dialectic

  untaught

 

Now this corner

  I sit in

 

Both welcomes

  and warms

 

And the thoughts

  it retriggers

 

No movement

  just form

 

I once had

  looked over

 

What I now look

  within

 

From this chair

  that I captain

 

Where in virtue

  —I sin

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)

 

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