Life begins, an iron cage

Shaped with the science and spirit

Of our own, unchosen form.

As the days mix together

The plaster is applied,

Covering our wiry frame

With the wet, tacky layers

Of varying experiences

Until a faint image emerges.

Over time,

Our muted features rise

The result…

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For everyone who made it through, and those we left behind…

The first rain after winter

Comes softly, in comparison

To the cold pelt of ice and snow

That remains so fresh in our memory.

March is a two-faced teacher

Harsh and demanding in its first days

Yet, warmer and…

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History has proven

That eventually

We all become phantoms,

Hollow, inevitable echoes

Of the people we once were.

Despite this fact

We spend our lives

Seeking purpose and meaning

For a life that we know

Will simply disappear.

Perhaps, these pursuits

Are more than just

The selfish seeking

Of some…

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We are the shadows

That haunt the finite day

Filled with light,

Revealing little

But the shapes and forms

Of things already named.

We are the silhouettes

That drift into evening

Beguiling and fantastic

Under the cover of darkness

Believing in our own magic

In an enchanted nightdream.

Such is…

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And the song on the radio played –

Fear is the heart of love…

Triggering the thought

That everything in this world passes,

Away

As we look, and live, and worry about

The perpetual loss

Of all that is precious and dear

Fading into the familiar dust

That leaves but…

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