The coming

The tiles are ticking beneath your feet,
times are coming and you have to meet
whatever your wandering ways have made;
this is the coming that makes you afraid,
this is the amount of all that you can add,
all that you are, that you can see or once had,
this is just another day following the between,
another encounter with your proper trampoline.




Poetry by Bob
Read 503 times
Written on 2009-01-12 at 17:19

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