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LATE AFTERNOON NOISES
Sky of the occasional gull.
The drone of city bound traffic.
Silent ants and
purple flowers trembling.
Ghost footsteps on ashfelt.
All is distant perfumed, shivering
and soft.
I am so old
already.
The soft chirrup of day old birds.
This world so frightening in its softness.
I am adult.
The world revolves without me.
This time is one of the loneliest times.
There is nothing to protect me.
Nothing to pity me.
The sun
late afternoon noises
and nothing. |