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Did I Burn In The Winds

Did l burn in the winds to be raised to the highest stars,

Though for split seconds only, then smashed against rocks of iron,

Only to be bled from pulverized veins like a slave,

To be smashed by Fortune with her vile sneering face,

Victim of her blackest moods, mistaken construction

Of accidental combination, sheer fluke of the universe,

Flake of snow appearing in utter uniqueness,

Original in the universe though useless before Fate,

Mere flotsam to the eternal seas of wrath,

Tsunamis before which the last gasp of terror

Cannot be seen or remembered in the indifferent vastness

To lie as a speck of volcanic ash in a buried corner?


Cloudsley, Tim, MA; British independent academic researcher and writer, poet, essayist, and short story writer resident in Colombia; formerly lecturer in Sociology at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh, Scotland.

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