Saturday, February 25, 2006

Look now

of the long goodbye,
the solace of old folks
in their dying. That
Is talk
tuned to the ticking of the clock.
But if, as you are alive, you
Look now
at whatever greets your sight, say
arriving from a busy flight, alighting
On the branches
overhead, their musical twittering
dancing in the air, singing of
The sunlight
as it beams, suddenly the immediacy
Streams though
the universe vibrantly
in the golden gleaming of
The leaves


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