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Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head, what shall I do before going to bed? "There's not much day left; there's no time ...

Monday, May 2, 2011

Poem 200: Life

It seems to be that time has brought 
me down a spiral cord
in hopes of springing me back up
when to it's end I go.
But somehow my spring's been compressed.
Or through the center I must have lept
falling between spiral cords
onto a line eternally flat.
Did I skip years of life 
to find myself upon this line?
Or have I simply overlooked
a future, joyful slip-and-slide?

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