Dirty Time


Depth of a bruised sea
rising from the surface
overwhelms the dumb shore

shining
for impossible tomorrow
golden sand, the locked door.

History repeats amnesia
for a depressed meniscus
shifts the nameplate.

Here was laid the image of
priestlees god of dusty face
small dreams.

The book remains incomplete
who wrote the contents
for blank pages?

Tags: | Category: Life Poems

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