" flower in winter
soon to wither
a life in stone
to see it in bloom
whither do we bemoan?
sleep well april showers,
if ever in winter december
the snow's beauty veiled by cold.
do not mind the unmoving white
tip it over, let it fall once more "
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Monday, July 05, 2004
evolvement?
digital tryst
it is with digital ink i write
of eulogies for dead poets
that bore the form; wired frames
with joints queer and hollow
so it is when glitter wanes
a conjure; as metals in embrace
leaves soldered words
alas rust is cold to the touch
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