Friday, March 7, 2014


Sometimes you have to gather
Truth in fairy nets
That swing through windless
Fathoms of the brain

Or catch a dream with
Feathers on a string
To quench our willful
Heritage of pain

But then there comes
A time to start again,
To act upon those
Windows of the deep

However far the flotsam
May remain
And fix the stranded
Wreckage of our keep

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