On my own dime

The stars know

the patterns glow

the roots must grow

after the rain

the seeds have been lain

upon the fields

that were barren plains

that once did yield

one at the gate

almost too late

was a pass handed over

though unplanned, it was fate

Yet still navigated

through the pendulous chill

and the compass was negated

by the inquisition still

when fighting for survival

is seen as but a crime

not entitled to revival
I'm on my own dime

- S. Rose Ashcraft