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Friday, September 27, 2002

smokey reflections and a word

smokey reflections and a word like r a g e
the clearing yeilds clarity but the word remains
how cruel clocks tick around hands in the soil
surrounded but alone. his heart pinned on his lapel.
the silence is deafening. a dark whisper in hell.
a teardrop. a promise. a glance from afar.
how cruel clocks tick around hands in the soil
Posted by clayton in
(1) Comments | Permalink
Next entry: "When I read about the Previous entry: Greg is gone. Buh-bye.
Natalie  on  09/28  at  09:39 PM

Wow.  You can sure turn a phrase!

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