The cemetery
across the way
standing still
quiet still
every day it grows
standing still
quiet still
no one cares when someone new enters
standing still
quiet still
only when it's much too full
standing still
do we realize, this is where we rest
quiet still
They cemetery
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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