Tuesday, April 22, 2008


It began with a seashell
so delicate...

The words flowed
with adolsecent angst.
They continue through
life's surprises and goals
I never hoped to realize.

It will continue:
as long as my fingers move
even if the letters wobble
like Anna's did...

All the while my eyes see
even if those visions
exist only in my head...

As my ears receive waves
even if no one else hears
the voice within....

Beyond the everlasting day my spirit
enters eternal rest
past the hours that will flow
evermore in the distance...

I am
I will be
a poet.

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