O Karma

Morning fog in Dresden

How beautiful you twist
A humor to a great mourning
With fog in a bright morning
You’re twisted, you take bliss

How short you left peace
For the driver in my slum street
Who behind the wheels sped quick
And washed me with mud squirt

But oh, how harsh your justice
To the one who bathed me
Disguised in a fog so thick
You met him with a big hit

I assume that if at first hint
He had offered an apology
And seduced me with a free lift,
I could have told him of the fallen tree;
He would have plied the foggy tint
And still make it out the journey, free

But then you caused ‘cease’
To the humor in his bright morning
And the ‘bright’ in his fogged journey
You could have let him and save mourning
Still, blessed be your justice


3 thoughts on “O Karma

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