Tuesday, November 25, 2014

every moment of living

someone makes an exit

and a tribe is diminished

by that much

but the golden sun

the long shadows of afternoon

those things that plucked

certain strings on our instruments

they continue to reverberate

while each of us

awaits our time to go

and the permanence of that scene

makes it seems as if there is no time at all

but our very living....

Content (c) 2008-2014 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

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