Never late to arrive
Stopped to see what
Was hanging in a tree.
Found a specter floating.
Asked me, "why are you?"
Answering, "I am me."
"Its time to follow away,"
Shade hissed in the pitch.
Protesting, "papers are due,
Yard needs mowing,
Clouds unnamed float over
Undiscovered seas churning."
"Matters not the un but the done.
Reason one truth which makes
The stay to continue unchanged
Resplendent in the repetition?"
"Trial of the last century
Is over, yet the verdict
Remains overlooked in the
Chorus of apathy winners.
Fusion the done to the sticking
Point where the song that remains
The same is the song that is
Sung over the blues of truth.
Bliss to the motion,
Creating nirvana expanse
I will the recognition of
The once wasted glance."
Tree sways breeze empty.
Return on the way to
Concert club friend fete,
Write story then forget.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
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