Clotho

A curious and autobiographical piece he wrote not so long ago, part of a three-poem cycle. Those of you with mythological educations can guess the names of the other two pieces.

Clotho

so soft will lay this token,
a stair to dares unspoken.

kittenish kisses never wasted
in memory where they're tasted.

surrender to the moment, lest
regret will yet your fate wrest
from open hands, holding not
the target's line to strike this spot.

the shadows call. I know their voice.
but I am still a will of choice
and not a wisp or fleeting air
that falls to floor in paled despair.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.