One day

One day, for no visible cause,
 an air of zest passed through my mind,
a bacchic breeze  brought memory
of the goat lust of youth.
Gasping at the loss of it,
I groped the air, as if blind.


In the mirror
the immediate Me observes
the despised You.


I could move on forever.
Take my tools: axe, shovel, saw.
Start a life.  Not a new one,
but another.


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