Art Poetique

"Let your verse be the thing in motion"

Thursday, June 8, 2023

Irony

I can recall trees that have long since decayed 
Bridges that have washed away 
Or been blown to rubble for progress. 

I can still envision people who have died,
Hear their silenced voices,
And see their familiar gestures. 

The future comes from behind us
In everything experienced 
That you will never know. 



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