" 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 "
{-+-}
Sunday, July 11, 2004
the weekend in brief
fourty years in london
and im stoned on the bus
a distant cacophony begins to drone
to tote my body along
to wade itself through downing skies
but alas discontinued itself in still
fourty years in london
and im stoned on the bus
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