Sunday, September 11, 2005

Beginnings that Lack.

From our desert sessions, lacking the biting air,
even the conditioning couldn't push the heat,
and as the storm drains begin to clog,
with the antiques, the rustic leaves,
a chamber of sound echos in this ear
even the Triangle has packed and left,
but to what end must the seasons change?
should every thought be so scattered,
like flies in the wind?
dismiss reality for a moment,
and see the true parallels arise,
right before life begins to crumble.


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