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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2028893
A slightly nihilistic poem about people, sometimes , not pursuing their best interests.
12/4/14- 12/5/14-?

Weathering
___________

Weather vane spinning, 'top a cupola.
Dark clouds amass ,  nest brood awaits;
styluses of designs,motifs of hope,
in hamlets encroaching the lakes,
And river ;

Deep, wide as skies, and reflecting the
same.
Names and words mean as much as....

"Sound"
the depths, twains, fathoms, and leagues;
Lachrymose paradise,
bequeathing life,
it seems,

These themes cease,
just  an inkling,
before these hours
and day
and years
shatter,

into pieces,illumined,
joyously burning:
a broken weather vane falls,
and futilely points
back at our feet.
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