and whoever hears--hears--
my tribe disappears
one person at a time
in every obituary column
in whatever newspapers still exist--
and only their families and friends
remember
until they follow after
and are remembered in ever diminishing minds--
oh--perhaps like-minded souls are being born--
maybe they're do what we failed to do-
(maybe some who passed before among them--reborn--)
but for now--this place and this place--
done is done and I speak no more
about this--
Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.
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