Sunday, August 15, 2010

DAYS, LIKE LEAVES IN THE WIND

Days like leaves in the wind,
go blowing, drifting by.
sitting, unable to fill,
my day with meaning.
Too much pain,
can't think.
just trying--
I write a line,
the key says,'enter'.
enter ? where?
enter, what?
who is this? where did she come from?
My eyes ache. all over.
my hips -ache-
all over.
I have no desire to dwell on that.
Not, being able to create,
is a death for an artist.
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