February 09, 2011

Ledsehwer

Senseless
the bitter cold, tumbling
over the rail, cascading
ever gently over.

Covering
the gentle warmth, Protecting
what last is important, wondering
if it was all a dream.

Syntax
in this case, contemplating
how it fits in, observing
that it doesn't.

Reading
silently, rolling
over silent words, adding
their own vibrancy.

Thinking
it could be true, equating
the possibilities, formulating
the answer.

It
is
not.
But
can
be.
To
all
see.

Narrating
an ongoing battle, writing
the story, printing
only the words.

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