Archive for December 6, 2013

The book

A book is lying
on a bench in the park
and the pages are turned
by the wind.

The words are fading
and they drown in the rain
as the poem is washed
down the sewer.

A silence comes down
for a while all is lost
then the water finds way
to the sea.

A difference is made
on a shore, when a wave
comes on land and a gull
calls out loud.

A book is lying
on a shore, on a beach
and we think it was brought
by the wind.

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