November 09, 2009

Trance

Pieces of Paper From Long Long Ago I Was Going To Throw Away 07

Be they footprints across the sand
Or fingerprints on arid land
A voice that thunders on stirring minds
Or whispers behind window blinds

The charasmatic statesman who moves the crowds
Or the busker brewing in drunkenness loud
Beneat the willow a grieving child
Or the mindless maiden mild

Value evades, estimation lies
For all are born, value dies
As sure as the Mistral ravages France
Their breath unite in existence’s trance


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