ManicDDaily

Anyone who reads this blog is probably heartily sick of villanelles.  Sorry!  But here’s one more–re the aftermath of 9/11.   (

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

I do write non-villanelles.   And, while this is not the last villanelle I’ll post, I promise that it will be the last for a while.  (Future posts will also be more cheerful!)

Shattering

The shattering of lives should take some time.
It shouldn’t come in flashes, clods of dirt,
no moment for altered course, for change of mind.

The actual choice ahead should be well-signed,
the frailty of good luck, a blood-soaked shirt;
the shattering of lives should take some time.

He knew that road was risky, heard a whine,
but in the end those warnings were too curt,
no moment for altered course, for change of mind.

Hard to foresee your own true body lined
with metal plates and plastic tubes of hurt;
the shattering of lives should take some time.

So many hours after to refine
what happened in that second’s blinding lurch,
no moment for altered course or change of mind.

Or was it fate?  A studied path, not whim?
His heart tried hard to measure out the worth
of shattering lives.  It would take some time,
without moment for altering course or mind.

(All rights reserved.  Karin Gustafson)