Monday, December 24, 2007


I am a very small Prometheus
with my limited foresight;
I am a fire thief, a lone wolf
making safe the domestic.

I am a very small Atlas,
better a single mercenary;
I save the sum of things for pay,
and yet I bear my own burden.

I am a very small Icarus,
the wax upon my wings
gives way far too soon before
the wind beneath them rises.

Nobody sees my passing.
For I am tiny, very small,
a little chain-gang sergeant
of the subatomic scale.


Zechariah 4:10 — "For who has despised the day of small things?"

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