Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Stint

That speck of dust
That flew from the ground
That came back swiftly around

Shimmering sunny rays,
In a perfect setting of maze
Deeply cutting the window
Into pieces or patches

Its all that there is
Something shining and something not.

How ugly those poets, press their faces to stale past
Doddering on armchairs, by staring into nothingness
Deaf to their own stories of rupture
They talk of things they'd just see
And not make, like that speck of dust
That they held midair, frozen in time

Beloved little speck of dust
You know nothing of these vultures
They'd latch on your beauty
And the eternity you hold
They seek perennial wisdom
That they think you'd know
This is your journey now
This is your whole story

I must ask you this,
Hence I may not.

Stay where you are,
Because that's all you've got.

-knightesS

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