Poems
Impressions of Trieste
Timeless blood, insatiable,
Drips down these castle's walls
Forming words that go unheeded,
Ring hollow through the antiquated halls
Where swords and guns hang
In ironic triumph, with pride,
Revealing the empty heart of time.
Unfathomable tools of war
Steel, cold and true
Do not reflect
the sun's healing rays,
Trapped in the cool density of stone,
Dark and true.
There can be no license.
The currency of fools,
Recurrence.