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| Puddle, 1952, M. C. Esch |
Eschew the truth; frightening
how you scrutinize others'
minor faults, lightening
your own guilt, how it smothers
feral flames spreading.
A tempest through life’s blazes
you think your future, dreading
puzzle pieces lost, mazes
through which you run, blockading
eternal wisdom, accrue
lies upon lies stockading
distrust from truth you eschew.
©laurie kolp
Prompt inspiration:
Real Toads- Celtic Quatrain poetic form
Poetic Bloomings- Fire
The Mag 122 picture
