Thursday, November 25, 2010

Ancient Dance

Fly in a Vee
Often shifting places
While the Vee remains true
In an unmeasured sky of knowing
A divining wedge cleaved from here and
Aimed for there -  A perfect ancient memory
That lives outside of time but can define a season
The season of coming                                                  
And the season of going                                                      
Both smooth turning points                                                          
 Attaching to either one always invites the wolf
And freezing or starving can find you only if chosen
Old age comes soon enough breathing gentle forgiveness

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