7:32 a.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 25, 2003
Isn't that a twist....
By night, dirges I write....

By day, a weightless mind at play!

Mornings come, ..

Ending merry-go-round carousels..

Golden rings..

Exceeding wearied outstretched things

Except...by grounded sunlit days...

When thoughts leave gaps....and too familiar darkened paths

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