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Nov 2012
apex of the witching hour;
it beckons to me with sly allure.
pummeled fists, hard kernels of truth
silently relish whimsical patterns
birthed by this intensifying pressure

anxiously await the threshold
to this lonely portal, shrouded mysteries
echo as if from far away

tiny shifting shapes, pulsating colors
take on a life of their own
content in obscurity

urgent voices of the bubbling creek
are slowly being drowned by soft, yet
intensifying sighs of the flowers
until all is saturated
with eerie overlapping melodies
heightened but for a brief moment

silence settles over the wood, glaring in the midst
of everything that could have been
even as the doors to this parallel universe
shut cruelly once again.
ŠMW
Melody
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Melody
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