Eight days until sun set
nothing in stillness of opaque
grows under a somber cloud
hovers endless,
fallowing unseen places
and mimics mimes
clapping rounds;
Haven't risen unfiltered
rays from royal skies;
Slender fingers silhouetting trees
waving to the wind
stirring scents of sweetened vines
to toast commemoration,
swearing in(ebriated) fathers;
founding sons have yet to rise,
mourning horizon.
d.m.c. 08/09/03
















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