Sunday, February 29, 2004
Entering Spirit
happy 11th birthday to my dear friend and author!

Time is the real mystery:
Whether ancient or recent history,
Committed to, transmitted by faulty memory,
Time is lost to Now necessarily.
Now will join lost Time momentarily;
Is it not a cosmic irony,
That a lost and soulless mystery
Should rule the movement of humans so very arbitrarily?

Who am i, what am i
A picture's worth
moon phases |

I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking
grief to sleep in my arms.
issues
Poetry roll
Comments by: YACCS