Lines of sand, threaded dust
Tangled where roots sink
Deeper and deeper,
The world upon itself.
Lines, filled upon landscape,
Light, net upon light;
All on vague seedy dreams:
Paris, Florence, Athens, Rome.
We’ll find ourselves again,
Falling, falling on this
Threadless sea, loose
Dreams bobbing down, back-
Again, up and running.
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1 comment:
Very nice! A pleasure to read!!!:)
>Good day!!!:)
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