Tyson West
Lingering at the Village
(curtal villanelle)
I sparkled once so bright—I had it all,
yet truth bent oddly in our village sun.
I now contend with my decline and fall.
I juggled numbers but could not play ball.
Black clad my tribe observed their tartaned fun
I sparked so bright once—sure I had all.
We Travellers found purpose in the squall
of green and orange clans' feuds—fixing gun
shot wounds and lawsuits from their endless brawl.
Long passionless I peak past reason's wall—
without a woman's chaos I am done.
I ponder deeply my decline and fall.
Had I been wise I would have joined the sprawl
of foolishness to find a wife and son
I smolder now unsure I have it all.
One, I've become, with my decline and fall.
Bio
Tyson West has published speculative fiction and poetry in free verse, form verse and haiku distilled from his mystical relationship with noxious weeds and magpies in Eastern Washington. He has no plans to quit his day job in real estate.