SUNRISE SERVICE
Walk
This slow pebbled
Path
From palm front
To wood,
Eyes turned inward,
Voices still.
Walk,
Knowing, and not,
Although
Every day, he dies.
Sometimes
I do believe it.
By the blue
Green sea, I touch your
Feet
On yellow sand,
Taste
Your breath
Upon the water.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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