Every spring
he took wing
and migrated,
like a confused
waterfowl,
to nowhere.
Same journey;
same destination.
Which way home?
- mce
Monday, March 29, 2010
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Merely a holding cell for journal entries, wry observations, attempted witticisms, poems and random aphorisms. Sense of humor required. This is poetry, NOT biography. Please do not call 911, stage an intervention or suggest AA. Everyone deserves their own death, allow me mine. Tentative conclusions encouraged. Advice ignored. Absolute truths not welcome. Enlightenment unlikely. Play on.
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