grasp at heavy
lidded moon beams
rising in the sleep
slogged sky
and a new
dream sparkles
its gleam
before whispering
away
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
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Like a weaver weaves thread to create a beautiful rug, I'd like to think that I can weave words to create a beautiful picture that varies with each person that reads them. Here are my word-pictures.
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