Kildare

Sunday, March 29, 2009

The sensation of home can only be impossible.
It holds no meaning but for one.
Each individual open to no closure
and as the pavement changes
from a dark charcoal gray to a sparkling
gem dotted street paved with golden skin
as wheels still turn
wearing the ground thin
as my patience for prompt responses
disintegrate as fast as the children
fly.

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