Thursday, April 7, 2016

8007. ROOTS

I awoke today with the idea of
something, and was gone before 
the light arrived. I like it that way.
A force-field of something propels
me, human, forward. I am special
at the break of the light. For the
umpteenth time I welcomed the 
sun, worshipped that light and 
watched that orb : great orange
clime. From the very same spots
where I did all this forty years
ago. I've grown roots, but they
cut me all down. Everything that
was once is gone now. And all
this, in deep morning, before
Language has even arrived.

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