Quiet

dust-illustration

So must I at sunset times and early morning darknesses

Attend the swirls of random thoughts that murmur,

Whisper, groan, cry and caress the past

At the graves of distant distress.

These quiet moments, vulnerable

To ancient thunders that shake all reality,

To leave a blank sky empty of stars

Permitting only a finger to form

Helpless patterns in the dust.

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