At the beginning season remember nothing much.
Years’ trough break of deep, dusk
dulcet water, earliest age, mothered as stayed.

Through affection’s aperture
world kept handy, sterile, cowed;
showed it possessed love whether/if
only survive forward hour, then as a now, little else.
Respect, feared, ignore sash beauty of
harsh lessons shut.

Crib-mates and demonstration for pass over,
of autos – Gk., same, self, credo of kinfolk.
Thence to “High Office,” playground of Joyce
and many another who mirror-point, ‘self-donned,
unafraid and unfellowed’ like the monk in write;
and run horns, as luck, as might, on all airs anyway.
Your share – How to abrade hate n’est pas désolé!
nor beg sorrows for labours on the side of man.

Copyright © 2011-2013-2020 Joseph Duvernay.
Note: n’est…Without apology.