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Saturday, September 25, 2010


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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