Beyond
the inevitable
ravages
of time
all he can
remember
is the vision
of her slip
drifting
like a soft
white cloud
to the ground
and that
is enough.
- mce
Tuesday, June 1, 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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