an original poem by Peg
Rimbaud's Journey
The cruel sun bakes his skin
The blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked boy
Hides beneath the leathery brown wrinkles
The words no longer come
in flowing passages of prose
The trader sips his coffee
Buys a shipment of guns
Makes plans for the caravan
The visions no longer come
in exploding bursts of color
The blinding sand swirls 'round him
Alone, amidst the desert natives
He seeks the gold of security
The truths no longer come
in sacred dreams of revelation
The pain drives him homeward
The agony of amputation
Becomes his constant companion
The movements no longer come
in carefree flights of freedom
Confined inside a lonely room
The poet lies at rest
As his soul embraces eternity.
Dec. 1979