Sometimes they
fall like boulders
and roll past me,
relief in wake.
Or they fall
like bells
and leave sorrow
in the passing;
the chimes,
unhoarded.
Boulders and bells
slip away,
even now.
More OSI: Here
Sometimes they
fall like boulders
and roll past me,
relief in wake.
Or they fall
like bells
and leave sorrow
in the passing;
the chimes,
unhoarded.
Boulders and bells
slip away,
even now.
More OSI: Here
3 comments:
cute.
well done,
love the word flow of this one,,,
A little melancholy, but the imagery is wonderful.
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