gawain

Oh, I know…
                It’ll snow,
    Just as it did for Sir Gawain.
        I’d abstain,
  But it’s a satirical show,
          Though sloppy and inane,
    I was destined for;
        Besides, what gain would it be
              To go and ghost-away?
      Empirically speaking,
I’d be riding into glacier-rain
            Anyway,
  With carotid leaking to the knee…
      Or far from that salve-of-shore,
              Where the ships came by
                            Once,
                  To save or ignore,
        Then neither,
  By raging way of too-salty sea—
              Afroth with nevermore.

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    Poetry: closets and candles
        https://windstrewn.com/2019/12/09/closets-and-candles/