by scott from jail

I did not know that yesterday was here.
Perhaps I should have.  
                                          Yet believing it
would scarcely make it fonder or more clear.
It's hard to say which makes the better fit.
I saw a show last night, then went to bed.
Woke up to read a yesterday in print.
Surprising -
                     at the end not much was said.
It fills the space as "arrow" fills the flint.
And now I wait.  
                              It's time to be at peace
But still, who knows?  Our conscience is a bore.
The waiting is what counts.  
                                                The golden fleece
is there, as is the ship, the sea, the shore.
I do not know what now.  
                                                I never did.
Its just that life,
                           like war these days,
                                                              lays hid.

Copyright © 2011 - scott from jail
Published: 11/24/11   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem