Member Poem

The mind is a traveller,
on an earnest quest apart,
link road to the innermost,
signpost for bold  hunch,
meaning is a hazy sky,
lay-by as mere pause,
quietly we trudge in  tight bands,
but never wonder why?
time doesn’t play that  well,
showing few if any paths,
language can be strained,
notions, slants, angles, terms,
tangled oxymoron at risk,
stifling broad consensus,
world weary air a plague,
night shift, day shift,
life belt for the toiler,
spoken in camp phrases,
that spur to  vocal fringe,
who might alter vacuums,
now passively endured