10 June 2011

many infinitesimally small things

They linger here and everywhere
like ash from a volcano's burst
that sifts through air and wind and sky
as a hurricane comes first

As dust settles on an old abandoned desk
tucked away in a room, within a room,
where letters writ in haste are sent
to be forgotten all too soon

A sense forlorn about the air
that triggers instinct to react
more thoughts are chased about in haste
and my memories are wanted back.

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