Wednesday, July 27, 2005

?

it flowed from somewhere mysterious.

it was splashing against the now-red rim.

it threatened to be released.

once it flowed, it somehow could not stop.

not even the big white blanket could stem the flow.

it streamed across the blanket, and streamed across the lines.

lines that formed with age.

the tears from an old man's eyes.

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Copyright © July 2005