Internal Landscapes V

Internal Landscapes V (Petrarchan)

The boy so lost within, more lost without:

Forget he all techniques, survival, may

To wander early winter’s waning day

Entreat the earth to offer up no doubt

He purposefully does abandon route

Will he succumb as frigid mountain’s prey

Where visit has the tundra’s kiss, obeyed?

He, out to seek the lips, with envious clout

Determined there to die, disconsolate

Without desire for solace, solace be

The storm o’er him like blanket puts to sleep

A welcome, peaceful dream–like minuet

Sweet lady’s hand he takes; her eyes he steeps

Once lowly tramp, achieve him now marquis.

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