In the Manor of Racine

Having carried Don

astride

over valleys, and strange ravines

linking rising and fading

daze

In whimpered race

chided as Rocin, workhorse

the fool, illiterate

buffoon

seems only right

in irony, Rocinante

to admit

aforehand unbridled

to never having read Dulcinea

to tale's end, were there such,

whipped up

by wishful thinking &

packing hardbound copy

for many, many years in saddle pack

never quite

reaching homestead

each sentence

sinking before the eyes

to sleep

as if by Cervantes himself

forming this quixotic idea:

depart from the line

the crop

(story or thought)

as it were, for unlike the back

of beasts of burden

the path

beaten,

is not yet, beat

2024 AUG 21