Monday, March 05, 2007


A blank canvas rests before me
Icy blue lines gaze out
The piercing cold delves deep
A thin red line banks the side
Aggressions that counter balances the hate
Thoughts and images fly on by
None seem to stick to the fly paper of my mind
The page stays blank
Like a field of wind driven snow
Beautiful in the absence of form or shape
But yet craving, needing, wanting
A disturbance in the white nothingness
A thirst that needs to be quenched
By paragraphs, sentences, phrases
Or even just a title

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