Monday, July 11, 2011

Lost at first
Sight to behold
Up and down the coast
The clouds all form the same lines
The planes on final approach
The cars at stoplights
people walk across the street
Alone again
The distance seems closer now
Another year trails off
We all shine on
Some short
Some long
The repetition has been beaten
For now
For a moment in our lives
Magazines and stories and trees
Lifted the daily bread
from it's place of grand repose
Our noses smelled the roses
And our clothes were packed again

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