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Saturday, February 18, 2017

THE INNER EYE

Dust piled upon the old clock
Hands and legs broken alike
Attic corner, lays forgotten
Unperturbed silence lies thickly.

Sitting center was a spry young rose
Flourishing like majestic sunflowers
Dewdrops glistening on sharp petals
A ceiling crack illuminates red

Suddenly, hands slowly wakening
Dust tracing patterns in air
Two seconds of disturbed silence
Then back to usual tranquility

So precious, the two seconds were
Determination still remains within
The colorful memories enough
Goading rose urging life.

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