I'm lines in the night
spoken both aloud
and whispered ...
writing pictures painted
by unseen painters
with invisible ink
like a soul's life-line
my edges can be
difficult to trace
with mere finger-tips
my profile
merely a glimpse
of my many inner faces:
I'm what the rabbit
Alice was following
was late for ...
the night that makes the eve hallowed
a spring in a gear that turns a wheel
behind the face of Father Time ...
I'm ... a single birthday candle
burning for Earth's adopted children ...
{make a wish}
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