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Thursday, September 06, 2012

Floating Behind Them

 
 
Sitting silently
Watching nothing but my lawn.
The sun is hiding.
 
 
Kitchen reflections:
Ceiling lights hang in the air.
Where the hell am I?
 
 
Distant rooster crows;
Transformer hums overhead;
Olivia chews.
 
 
  
Yellow petals gone;
Only the bare buds remain;
Nature's chronicle.






Shadows in the stream
Ripple ever so gently
In whispering breeze.
 
 
Bright Black-Eyed Susans
Don't mind the morning greyness.
They have their own sun.
 
 
Two women walking;
Their voices a soft murmur
Floating behind them.
 
 
Drooping timothy
Always looks very tired.
(Or is he praying?)

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