MINUTES MOVING

There are but minutes now, minutes in motion on metros,  minutes moving in on me, on my identity  on my mark, on my leaning, on my meaning,  meaning I am moveable like a feast, as he said, A Moveable Feast, meaning I am manageable  malleable, maybe unremarkable, mistakable. There are but minutes now,  minutes moving […]

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Toot of Transition

  How still it is, Silent ‘Neath the somber shade of night, Beyond the light Already long departed And sleeping in the shadows, Alone in thoughts That twist and turn And dig deep Amid the this and that, The important and redundant, And all the while The stillness builds- Oblivious to the restlessness Beneath my […]

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