Wobble

The river washes its ground bed
for many years going around,
all questions lost their sharpness,
like pebbles on the bottom line.
The earth flavors still come back
into my heart’s slow memory stream.
I don’t search, I don’t wait, I don’t hope,
all tears have already left.

Apart from my thoughts a fire grows silent,
shedding sparkle on a timeless night.
When the moon doesn’t shine
a flimsy light still hurts
within the body still mine.

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Categories: My Poems in 2009 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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