Sunday, October 5, 2008


The Young Writer

Writes of death, desperately
seeking to be deep; he reaches
for the endless resonance he finds
within binds softly bent, spines doubled back
depicting that which he craves to re create.

Sensing words to be immortal,
this newborn imagines mortality;
wondering what that must be
like, he consoles those elderly
fellows who, waiting to die, know

so much about life
that no longer applies.

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