Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Monday, February 21, 2005

A Duster

Bits of a cloud, several clouds
descended this morning
like confetti and left dust
on Einstein branches centered
across the way, viewed from
the loft where I stand.

No two configurations
are exactly alike
but once in a while,
every once in a while
you can find one
that bears an almost
perfect mirror image
of another.

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