Words Are Sometimes Cumbersome

Unpublished pieces

Let us make promises to one another,
with waiting touch to be made. A man

can never be certain of the silence if the
silence is impossible to touch. Floods may

come and floods may go; either way the
trees will grow much as always. Eyes may

travel from left to right but nothing firm
can be determined until a vision waiting

begins to turn into reality arrived. Nowhere
will you find the minutes of life replayed.

Once it is gone, it is gone and to realize
this is the beginning of wisdom. In the air

stands music, playing some sort of odd
bit of song. A man must sometimes stop

and listen to the melody of his mind. Words
are sometimes cumbersome; and passion

is often something defined but not felt.
All in all, what is to happen will do so

regardless of what you may want.
Stand at attention, the flag is raised.

And in agreement we find ourselves
drinking bottles of sherry in the dark.  

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