Post by mfwilkie on Oct 24, 2009 22:59:12 GMT -5
It's 5am.
Fog hangs beneath, above and through—surrounds—
old leaves—obliterates the usual view.
No wind to move debris to visualize decay.
There's no deep breathing from a passing train.
All is silent and white.
Waiting for possession.
Turn inward with the image, now.
There's nothing more to see
until you feel.
Fog hangs beneath, above and through—surrounds—
old leaves—obliterates the usual view.
No wind to move debris to visualize decay.
There's no deep breathing from a passing train.
All is silent and white.
Waiting for possession.
Turn inward with the image, now.
There's nothing more to see
until you feel.
