Thursday, December 2. 2010
Unrelated
That dampness I expected
did not greet me when I stepped
inside your soil
Your face had all this tidiness
that unlit wax lights might possess
when wrapped in foil
My mother walked the garden
where it rained without a pardon
too much by half
We stood in line to greet the wheat
which had been separated neatly
from the chaff
© 2010
thinking of
jb again
did not greet me when I stepped
inside your soil
Your face had all this tidiness
that unlit wax lights might possess
when wrapped in foil
My mother walked the garden
where it rained without a pardon
too much by half
We stood in line to greet the wheat
which had been separated neatly
from the chaff
© 2010
thinking of
jb again
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