avoiding stones

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what is lacking is silence
a bare assed moment
without din

Cacophony ruled.
hence the headaches
the picket fence feeling
all in a row
all clattering
against the force of our
running along sticks

silence in the eve
as exposed flesh touches
no need to fill the air
with syllables that drift
through windows
past branches
along fences

toe dragged trenches
for the simple seeds
dropped for the inspectors
to find

they will mark the black bound
spiral books with quills
then retire to rooms
following meat and ale

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2 Comments
duddle146duddle146about 17 years ago
Strange.,

A well crafted poem that sparkles with vivid imagery.

LeBrozLeBrozover 17 years ago
~~

One of those odd little pieces that stimulates the mind, with scenes evolving and growing.

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