Tag: poetry

Still blue pond waters held the old man’s face. A reflection in every timeline of a history slowly coming upon its end. Interacting, jostling shapes distorting features once youthful, once purposeful. Images reflected in the sun dancing on ripples
Sometimes my rake strikes sparkswhen I scratch the rocks or gravel—Lovers wave to soldiers on the trainin black & white movies I have seen—They cry into their handkerchiefs— The swish of my rake against the dirtmakes mountains of your

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