vignettes

a mote in the sea

Poplar trees shade face and brow
As my diadem oxidizes and rusts;
Shades my sunken eyes and tarnished crown
from the sun's lusty rays.

Should I be but a mote in the sea,
Or a knot in an eternal braid;
I wish to be untangled and set free
Before I dissolve... Before I fray...