I will not be sad in this worldIn passing, this seemed to make sense.The trials of youth were abetting, we had foreseen the worst yet to come,The landslide was projected for another fall, another shore, another time

Like a dog on a bone

A thought of disclosure, of closure, of fright, of future The thought needed a way of happening, a mouth, to permeate

The negative will not bleed to the surface, not in this life

The dire prediction will not manifest in the bosom of sanity

The wandering thought will find no home here I will live my days in peace

Prosperity of spirit if not of circumstance

Inflict upon others

My endless litany of thoughts, none the wiser

To the deep well of conflict that looms behind the bat of an eyelid

And the sigh of early autumn I will not be sad in this world

For it won’t have me

I scuttled it about, kicked it around, refused to call it friend,

I only humored it for poetic subversion, for artistic purchase I know beauty

I know God

And so, I can’t know sad.

Not in this life. Not with you.