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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #1715920 |
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the cycle returning as red light to cinder a place near enough i learn to begin and wanted for more than moments could give more than these colors black and blue ribbons shadows another october the color of clay washed out by living came as we dreamed (far away floating) swept us away til nothing was left but waves on the grass rocks once we grew orleander fences now fallen the boards could not hold one more nail we would give it and begging to stand would hold all we had gathered a lifetime (together) no longer the fields burdened with cotton we might stand at the edge filling bags with our reasons but we can't stop forever from falling we can't stall the memory of rain soaked to the skin drunk with forgetfulness for one yesterday I'd give up the fight to float as a tiny white blossom to sail (spinning) past everything (I remember) to wake without dreaming of land a place somewhere (far) past returning water unfaithful as truth into seed
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