Saturday, July 28, 2012

Recovery of Sorts

Revised 8/12/2012:

Thunder splits a cumulonimbus mash;
denying light
refusing sun
deflecting clarity on every plane.
A river of words evaporates through a
cauliflower of mud sludge:
blocking, blockading.

A beggared man,
squeegee in hand,
clears the murky panes
nothing to give—
fleeting memory fading fast.

It is there to be had…
capture it, set in stone
the truth recovered once again
again and again
for the last time
for now.

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