By Andrew R. Duckworth
I slept for a thousand years
Yet I walk sluggishly in light
After the passing of the night,
And lost count of the tears
Shed when my fight
Causes loss of sight.
I was in the great out yonder
With no words left to ponder-
A dry desert, and yet I wondered
Where an oasis might spring forth.
I was out in the most dry
Waiting for wings to fly
Because it’s in the open sky
Where we measure our worth.
Poetry of Andrew Ryan Duckworth 