a white noise of traffic
gives silence a voice
as I ponder all that has
disappeared and been lost
I sit still stone-like on a chair
eyes not seeing what they look at
and all that was and all that is to be
crush me under the weight of this moment
the Infinite in all its immobility
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
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