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Straw Taxi Cabs ©

Gordon Fjaelberg
Bridgend, Wales
1968

Late last night a stranger came to mind
As I studied Latin by the fire's glow;
Whereon my barely furnished little room
Assumed new dimensions as it seemed to grow.
My mind began to fill with Mists of Doubt,
I closed my studies at the Future Tense;
Clamping both my hands about my eyes,
Yet nothing could cut out the vast pretence.

I looked through the window
Where earth and sky meet,
Shimmering yellow and green.
Straw taxi cabs plied their trade
In the street;
Then they were gone!

Flying down wide Corridors of Life
Some lit, I noted, others deep in gloom,
Yet all that I could see for years ahead
Was each of us imprisoned in a room.
Now this was less than I'd hoped it would be,
I'd dreamed, in Better Days, that I would find
Some inner sanctum where we can be free
To leave the follies of this world behind.

I viewed in the distance
A land out of reach,
Shimmering yellow and green.
Straw taxi cabs plied their trade
In the street;
Then they were gone!

Wandering past Obstacles of Doubt
Each entrance barred, their exits beckoned me,
And while they tried quite hard to draw me in,
Here was no place that I would wish to be.
I struggled then, as one who takes on Fate,
Not knowing whither it would lead me to;
I felt myself detach, become absorbed,
With no solutions in my field of view.

I pictured, in close up,
Kaleidoscope worlds,
Shimmering yellow and green.
Straw taxi cabs plied their trade
In the street;
Then they were gone!



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