Saturday, September 18, 2010

I have always wondered if numbers counted backwards connected forwards make the same sum,
a tree drops its leaves never to pick them up again.

I pick up words and move them around like the moon in its monthly ripeness.

Today can never be tomorrow, so why do I keep rereading the labels of food brought yesterday.

I watched the sky in sunset waning,
only to find my mind had never wanted to count again.

I drop thoughts like fall leaves,
he is brought up again and again,
unlike the clouds that pass by my window at dusk.

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