Living in the confusion,
we collect the winnowed remains
of some map,
and our progress erases each day.
We no longer believe
what we believed, the cobwebs
in our minds shape
the dismantled world
holding its peace.
Copyright©2008, Debashish Haar, All Rights Reserved ®
T S Eliot reciting "the Burial of the Dead (The Waste Land)"
Excellent poetry,
Many blessings,
~Linda
Edwin