Thursday, February 19, 2009


The downfall of purity smooths the panorama before me.  Hiding faults, covering vices, cloaking the unwanted.
Creation pulls the covers back on, "five more minutes of sleep."
Listlessly falling
Silently screaming toward impact.
Dead hiss and whisper their secrets as a crystal army crashes upon them.
Every corner smoothed
Every hard edgemadeinfinite
Clouds breath    a dance    into the sky.
Eddies cartwheel before settling
Upon the earth.

An expiriment with words.

No comments:

Post a Comment