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May 2015
Trickles in the pond
Did a rose or a stone cause it?
Night too dark
For naked eyes
Strained futility.

Your wilderness sings so foreign
Words and melodies blend
As all victims do
In their final, eternal mattress.

The ripples in my pond
Build and crash
Where and when did this collapse begin
Will I find shelter, home or solace
Lost out here?
Kenneth Everett Rathburn
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