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Exasperated to a Crisp
By Susan Landon

This man is not a slave
to time. He was born
out where the winds howl,
where the desert laps
at the mountains,
where the sky is ancient,
pebbled with starry disks
that sing away the nights.

I am a dreamer tethered
firmly to the material world,
bound perhaps too firmly
to time and space.
And when I wait
for the tides that run
deep in him to bring
him to me, sometimes I seethe.

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Document last modified on: 01/06/2007

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