Tarot: 7 of Swords

 (2025) 

So many ideas still swarm in my Aries head,

but now like a dust cloud.

I haven’t enough discrimination left

to choose the better of my ideas. Look!

I’ve already lost two thoughts,

like dropping swords, points buried in the mud.

These are likely the best two, but who knows?

I’m forgetting memories, rejecting plans.

 Pharmaceuticals, or age, or just plain tired—

I walk into battle fields and kitchens both

not sure what drew me there. It was some object

I needed to find, or an online task, some duty,

a necessity, and already

most of my mind’s blades have become blunt.

Carrying them in a bag on my back

has become burdensome. It’s time

a protege should pick them up,

but no one has the vision I seem to have lost

I shouldn’t have imagined myself impervious to age.

Tarot: 8 of Swords

 (c) 2026 

All my doubts form a fence—

my insecurities a blindfold—

and the stories I tell wrap me like loose ropes.

What if I find the stories sweet?

What if I find pleasure in the lies?

The waters beneath my feet are shallow,

and nothing in my heart is so deep

as the rivers of previous weeks.

In the distance I hear the obscene hurrahs

of soldiers finishing war games—

wiping blood from their blades.

The King and Queen in their castle are half-asleep.

I am insignificant and therein lies the beauty--

I can stand still and think.