54

The grayness of this winter’s day

Can attest to powers there at play

Or Odin’s melancholy shade

Never cast itself on the midweek

When I was born, a child full of woe.

Four and fifty years ago

Three planets so aligned in Capricorn

To bring about a most unlikely quark

Though better it may be to say

I willed my own existence from a spark.

It’s not so much the hand that I was dealt

As how I choose to play this game of cards

Or rather play the music in my brain

Born with me from the distant spheres

A tragicomic song for mental ears.

3 thoughts on “54

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