Here behind my own wall,

I take comfort in Roger’s words,

as my window on the world

is larger than the slit

of light afforded the guards

of towers old and still

have room to fire an arrow

full of quivers through,

although these days the window

also lets in the mad and the fanatical…

even crazier than me.

I sit behind a fortress of books,

periodicals, fiction,

with a stronghold fortification

of doors and clouded windows

my reality view,

is obscured by living.

I sit perfectly still,

save the quick

fingered

approach and awkward reproach

when an idea comes

and immediately is dismissed

knowing that the mad and the fanatical

will have their say, I aim

with an arrow full of quivers

through the window

and hope to hit

in the heart

someone

with love.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017