Amidst

Amidst everything
Objects form shapes of language
Echoes speak of fallen trees and dreams
Walk amongst the living assuming form
Is a given that may be taken away,
For a relative prolonged instant
Memories row through the fog
Where warm blooded creatures
Think of all they do not know
Making empty lists
Of:
Everything that is amidst .



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 563 times
Written on 2016-10-26 at 15:47

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