Sunday, July 29, 2007


A certain sum of breaths   are in each life's lot
some claim the figure's inscribed   upon one's brow
the play's performed   & if maudlin seems the plot?
at least one stays absorbed   in the here & now
although thoughts might drift   one marvels at the scenery
and at times   one likes to improvise the lines
if you meet me in the park   we'll observe the greenery
but is this act two?   who knows?   I forget the signs

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