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

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Cumulus

Looking through nature
with a camera eye,
everything is more real
just before dusk.

Think of frayed cotton by the
light of the moon, try to
pick out these shapes the way
you always can in dimly lit
noisy rooms; like patterns
in the grain of tabletops
you can pick out
whenever you want.

Last night the stars
were throwing themselves
against the clearest sky
and we watched as they
moved across minutes,
hours.

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