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AFTERNOON
GALAXY
OF GREY...
CONTEMPLATING
HESITATING
WITH EACH
WORD...
THOUGHT...
FEELINGS OF
REMORSE
CARVED INTO
THE ROCKS OF
MY SOUL...
BLOWN THERE
BY THE WIND
LEFT THERE
BY CIRCUMSTANCE...
NOW I CAN
BREATHE
THE RUSTY AIR...
DRINK IN
THE SOLIITUDE
OF LONELY
HOURS...
A WATCHFUL EYE
A WAVING
HAND
A SHADOW
ON THE WALL
OF TIME
STRANDED
ON A
ROADSIDE CALLED
INFINITY...
Bobby Jameson Nov 19, 2010
I really like this piece. I recognize the oxymoronic nature of my observation, but the tone feels like optimistic despair—what I have called elsewhere (the title of my "Alternet" blog) hopeful cynicism.
ReplyDeleteTim