Grit Moods:
By Kevin Anderson
Dark.
I stand in awe; temporary, inadequate,
cast inconsequent by its consuming soul.
A satanic presence, oppressive and menacing
penetrates the evening's impending gloom.
Towers of confidence, erect and aloof,
untouched by our history's ephemeral breeze.
No hint of passion, caress or understanding,
just solid, magnificent, relentless and chilling.
Rationality overwhelmed, physique belittled
- simultaneously absorbed and rejected.
Conquered without concession, I move to escape;
spiritual, mortal and whole.
Kevin Lang Anderson
September 1995
