Thursday, July 11, 2013

Poetry

One is two is three is a march
A progress forward begun as a step into nothing, a dry waste of heat and mirage
Sweat and blisters, stinging little shielded eyes as the last moist life scatters away
In each step is a march, rhythm to move in breath and in time
Still it takes all, so very all, for each step, for each one
Is
A
March

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