Thursday, March 16, 2017

Caught Valentine

And you my dear dead ones
Whose lives continue on the inside
While we are caught here
On the outside I’m sure
You hold the secrets to both
If we would only listen
You wield the spring light
The way we pick up a pen
And out of your murmurings
The brief memories of leaves
And flowers form and breath
Each thing once only for us
But for you they’re just down the road
Where they remain
In their eternal weaving

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