The air can face the stoniest wall
What is the deepest tragedy when there is no one at all
Hence the fact that a poem is always lingering
The thoughts of a blur worth shimmering
The last gloss to take to the glossy finish
A photo to listen and memory to diminish
A book to be read with words of dying honor
The glimpse of love, in a female petal and pending power
All the time that I’ve spent, not oval
In a circle of trapezoids and rhombus
The world has eyes to feel the very vision
The equal of scientific premonition and domination
The day is mine, in moments
The glory in glass pins and circles
Every flower must go noticed
Or the smell, passes just scent- a- cation
copyright 2010
