Friday, December 13, 2013

Untitled IV

A drop of rain
rolling over my fingers
refreshing, yet so beautiful.

a bead so unabated
as I think of you
walking through the pathways of my heart.

a clarion of sound
from a towering building
overlooking a gigantic cataclysm
of emotion
enthroned by your walked pathways.

From “In the Mist of A Dream” published in 1970

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