Thursday, April 10, 2014

5237. MAKING THE SOUNDS OF A DOG AS I SLEEP

MAKING THE SOUNDS 
OF A DOG AS I SLEEP
I possess this one life. Or is it? A section of 
ribbon-time somehow rolling yet stopped for
me? With all its bends and turns, I am aboard
for the ride. Or, I am not. The distinction 
may be minuscule, but it's there.
-
This morning held a velvet sky, black with  -
of a sudden break  -  a newly large and
surprising again number of distant stars.
Or it did not. I can't really be sure.
-
Like the distant haze of the Milky Way,
there it all is. I see it. Am I in it? Am I
part? Or am I, same-stead, walking
distant towards some other place?

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