Parallel

Let these hands from hands

go kindly 

Let them stretch into their opened light

Minds do not mind so much

a sunless sky

gazing in froth and velvet

Struggling to a train without

the means or destination

Two bodies free as one

beneath a leper's crown

uncaring as invested

I think about these wretched hounds

at the dark ends of the prowl

But in the oneness and the tapestry 

some lives no longer want or wait

for the closure of their parallel

Reviews

[Ken e Bujold]

your opening line instantly transported me to DT, which I am thankful for since I've been tardy in circling back to Thomas for a while now.
The melancholy tinge is palpable, a deep ache here P. I truly enjoyed the poem's easy rhymic pitch. Traditional style, worthy of the masters Thomas, Yeats even.
"Struggling to a train without/the means or destination" illustration of your gift

enjoy the season my friend

ken

[Perdition]

Ah! Mr. Dylan T ...one of the funniest poets to ever grace this planet. I use to listen to his interviews. That man's wit was undeniable. I loved his denials of knowing anything about poetry when they'd pair him off with some professor in an interview. Tragic ending but what a poet.
An all too kind mention and reference ken, sending joy and greetings for a wonderful holiday season as well! Many, many
thanks!