never seen
for a while
in the small
of morning
waiting
casting shadows
on the garden wall
roses in the wild
we a word heard
never seen
peaches growing
out of habit
gardeners hard to come by
so we speak
in languages
understandable in times gone by
their meaning bare
emptied on the way
as they reach out
finding the void in our hearts
so we move in cognito
unaware
Poetry by kath
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Written on 2007-03-01 at 08:00
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