Wednesday, July 27, 2011


Frayed strands of things unwoven;
pieces slipped past while new shapes emerge;
mist in the vision.

Subtle work, the way it all slides
and upheaves, downheaves,

wearies, bears down, strikes;
we shift colors, rooms merge, voices refract
off walls and stories are discarded --
something new, yes, always
and something old that slips.

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