There's never time to plot our course.
The weather holds—at least for now
But deeper waters, cruel and coarse
Are drawing in beneath the bow.
If folly reigns, or courage fails
If terror's tempests breech the sails
We wager on, by faith and force.
Share this post
Penny Wagers
I write narrative poetry that leans more mythopoetic than personal. Also essays about perambulations, coffee's effect on memory and other cool stuff. Come on in. The water's nice, so feel free to take your shoes and socks off.
I write narrative poetry that leans more mythopoetic than personal. Also essays about perambulations, coffee's effect on memory and other cool stuff. Come on in. The water's nice, so feel free to take your shoes and socks off.
Share this post