Monday, October 15, 2012


Searching for men
In raggedy boxes,
Answers that fall from the sky.
Stars may blink out
While time stands repeating;
Ever and over they cry.
Weeping forms rivers
That flow to the ponds,
But always rewinding
Writes such a long song.
If scores could be changed,
Or maybe transposed,
Perhaps he'd see everything
Nobody knows.
One crack is fusing;
One rift of our time.
Though others will open
Till silence sublime.  

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