The chords left dull

At the bending of necks

Rubbered in their sight


 A storm of creation

 Quiet until lightening strikes


Each day the blessings


It seems it is all

Still a dream unfolding


Notes plucked upon

Crossed stars


We'd wept



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allets's picture

Still Here

Chords like ligaments

and tendons

pulled for health

and distance. Synapes

fire and lightening

envies the efficiency.


There. No doubt, there.

Strings vibrating

as the thumb strums.

We would let tears

rule for joy

at the vibrancy

of so much life.






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