At the Tower March 20, 2008

Dusk without a timely murmur of protest.

The Tower stands gloomy and real

owing to fantastic heights

the Fool scales with wonder.

Or is it not he who stands there

on the rocky shore

and feels the dampness cling to him,

but the worm of the apple of his eye

descending into hints and storms

where his words are last whispered

to his own ears.