Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Duration of Mourning

I hear the murmuring.
Is it the strength

ebbing away? Just
damned inconvenience,

when adulthood fails.
It's like the days

from my memory.
How fear wells up

with all its push-me-
pull-me.

Push-me-pull-me
waiting for rest.

Another's sorrow so
becomes my own.

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