Bookwormin'

I like to ruminate on leaves
of misbegotten lore
And rake them in a pile so deep
I cannot feel the floor

To sift anew some severed soul
Now partly left behind
And weigh his words in mortal hands
Before the Judgment Time

And dream  of prayers from death dispatched
That I would drop a lighted match

ArneHerstad©2005   February 1st
 
 



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