To Virgins (If There Still Are Any) or Musings on THE UNICORN IN CAPTIVITY Tapestry

by Glen Martin Fitch

He thinks he's captive by some strange device,
But he's imprisoned in or out of cage.
Like Eden's Adam, bored with Paradise,
By trick he may be killed but will not age.
How awkward is the horn above his mane.
He thinks he's bound. He fears the fence and yet,
Like Eve, he doesn't know enough of pain
Or wrinkles, age or death, to know the threat.
But mortals are not unicorns, my dear,
And doom, not death, came with the apple bite.
Within your cave of innocence you fear
You're fettered. Leap now! Let your heart take flight
To seize the day, before you lose your prime
For each new love will be a new first time.


Glen Martin Fitch's picture

Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."

Last updated August 23, 2011