Sunday, December 18, 2011

The wheel

Walking the perimeter in
One last surreal exercise
Thinking secret thoughts
To erase the monotony
The last I’ll see the moon
Rise over these buildings
& trees or stars disappear
Into the mouths of clouds
From this vantage point
To never again hear the
Solemn sound of church
Bells striking in the pre
Dawn hours before my
Shadow fades into the
Realization it no longer
Belongs here & needs
No longer awaken so
Very early


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