it is not fair flat
i’ve been in some dark places
where
even now
a torch eclipse does not penetrate
the penumbra of forever
the desolation of a backward glance
of a coat of disarms
never to walk the trout stream into the mist
perhaps to walk the never return
to see how in the night a star burns bright
how the rising sun walks fingers across the sea
how the tide slides into my coffin
laid lower than life’s water table
this lake of tears
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