In the quiet of the night,
poetry on the refridgerator can be heard,
along with the chirping of crickets,
which was not there before.
How long have I been asleep?
How long have I been dull?
Self-interest and possession quietly tuck the light behind
the horizon,
but if you don't notice, you can't pull it back.
It might be too early.
It might be too late.
It seems the best course of action is to join the crickets in their singing
and become the thrumming world
Jun 27, 2012
Jun 27, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
In the quiet of the night,
poetry on the refridgerator can be heard,
along with the chirping of crickets,
which was not there before.
How long have I been asleep?
How long have I been dull?
Self-interest and possession quietly tuck the light behind
the horizon,
but if you don't notice, you can't pull it back.
It might be too early.
It might be too late.
It seems the best course of action is to join the crickets in their singing
and become the thrumming world
Feedback is appreciated.