acrostic poem

thou unrelenting past
to come so soon to this imagined dark
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
tell me less or tell me more
in the cloud-gray mornings
in their ragged regimentals
the agony of having too much power
backward, turn backward
lady, your heart has turned to dust
let us pity those who are better off than we are
they may talk of love in a cottage
the lightning flashed, and lifted
a few more windy days