Straw and string


Straw and string,
discarded garments,
guns and trenches,
a blue sky late at night,
the measured
and the inevitable,
all in the fabric
of the absolute edge,
all assaults me,
all makes the I,
neurological responses,
the vision, the illusion,
the just behind, still.




Poetry by Bob
Read 459 times
Written on 2011-05-20 at 22:25

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