Along

Take Aim
No claim to fame.
Nothing large and lame,
Nor regretful shame.

Eyes bright and clear.
Still sight and hear
The low rumble, my dear,
Of the anxious, unknown fear.

Mistakes still made.
Miscalculations I’ve paid.
But lasting satisfaction I crave
From unsure actions that wave

And tempt to risk the
Inner seal I’ve saved.

Clouds drift northward
And I am fine
As darkness fades
From the path
​
​I unwind



11/6/22