Thursday, October 11, 2007

Enter Evening

Awake:
and walk
to lay with idle elders
of the soil.

They know the soul well,
They know it without sound.


Rest eyes upon
th'abysmal shell of earth,
carbuncular with era-ancient fleck
and flicker.

These know the heart
without sight.


Limitlessly resonant,
another comes:
If only the sea could sleep.

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