Sans Souci

time in my hands and nothing about which to write;

each line torments - ambiguity, mine alone, rests

at the foot of the muses forsaken and laughing;

creatures of habit jepardize my domain,

controlling the spirit of the game and without

their influences, their maze of ideas, their

free flow of thoughts, my creative wind blows silent

while the candle burns brightly behind the closed door.

December 1986