Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Meditation From a Under a Tree

blinking away the dust in the air,
keep the sun still in sight
the negatives turned out alright,
and under the tree,
losing your hold on trust,
begin the drowning effect.

pale skin and dirty nails,
scarred flesh from lingering wounds
fester under the branches
and watch the squirrels run away
to almost take on the traffic,
what will come of this next
as the halos drop from the horizon.

as the rust builds
and the failures pile up,
see the sun set, the moon new
water in your lungs,
and coughing for an age,
blame the ones you cannot see,
and for a time, take your turn.

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