take a second glance
leaves rustle in a dancethe wind, their live band
birds, their vocal ensemble
but your voice remains still
not a sound to be heard
leaves rustle on a tome
your words printed and bound
inked clues guide memories
but your voice still remains -
faded but familiar sound
leave, just leave, without a word
your thoughts riding the wind
echo back on distant semaphore;
bring to life this one last time
orphaned hearts you left behind
_ __ ___ ✒
●○
°
Poetry by arquious
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Written on 2015-06-15 at 12:49
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