eclipse Posted May 13, 2019 Share Posted May 13, 2019 This dying man hears angels tumbling down like grains in an hour glass, he stares into the circles in the park pond-reflections never settle. Leaves fall from a near by tree like former selves unable to reach the rings inside the tree grain, the last leaf falls like an angel's tongue providing the location for the rope, the park is the bell the pond is the clapper. Fading with the song within a song of a bird his circle is complete as the earth recedes. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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