Sunday, January 1, 2012

Not clocks, not stones

The rocks and tops of other

Markers, meaning more

Than the calendar, I ask

For a moment, just a respite from

The notes and scraps of papers reminding

Pockets filled with filler

A time full and sounding of

Others clocks

Wipe them away

Come with me

Take my hand

It will be

A new year.

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