Whim

by Frank Hubeny

May I from truth not wish to stray.
What’s unknown underlies each whim
on which I float, through which I swim,
until I find a better way,
repent, and pray this time I may
have turned from weakness to what’s right.
My day presumes a previous night
where darkness showed me odd-ball dreams
I thought were pure till morning’s beams
contrasted evil with good light.

Inspired by a prompt from Ronovan Hester’s Décima Poetry Challenge.

4 Comments to “Whim”

  1. Such an enjoyable read, Frank.

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