(August 5, 1950 / Illinois)

Aged Mirrors (8)

Evening made of small leisures.
Even the ants in our fingers
Repose.


Evening's little sea:
The last dream
Of a river.


Liquid twilight.
We realize
The sea is
The tear of the river.


The evening is a 'where'
Not a 'when':
The place where we meet ourselves.


- -

From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com

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