Like rain trickling through the sediment,
broken stones, broken minutes, broken bones.
The days pass, creeping slowly onward,
left alone, leaving shadows, left unknown.
No respite from the continuing cycle,
once more, once again, once endured.
That holds the fragile, timid soul of man,
stands poor, standing naked, stands unsure.
---e.a.s. demers
This is just beautiful...
ReplyDeleteIn my head, I see a broken, rusted clock, overgrown in vegetation, water pooling in the case.
Lovely words, these. Thanks for posting them...
Thank you, my friend... I didn't even think about a clock when I was writing this, but, I can see it now :-)
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