Wednesday, December 18, 2013


Twenty years

of dust transcended by

winds traversing through poignant canyons

as tidbits have been telegraphed to a wayward star.

Forgotten is your flowing hair

like the distant sunset to the West.

Faint laughter, arguments

cloaked in naive


Years asleep, I revisited our familiar meeting place.

Bright light was slowly overcome by


I heard again,

the echoes from the belltower.

written sometime in 1977

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