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Click here~Wisps of song drifting
on the wind,
faraway places did I come
from.
What brought Us together
at the time of night?
who would know that
the future unfolds
as a mere grain of sand:
caught in a show,
a sandal
slowed the walk,
and in the reckless dash of life
did I move to the vortex.
do hops climb
and love soar?
does a song slither into the senses
strumming the veins and blood
quickening.
I say enough,
Stop
and all sound ceases
save, the doe
comes to the clearing.
wanting and waiting,
ready to fly,
then turns into myst
shapeless and soft
enshrouding all in her lovely form ~
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 38,000 poems.
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