Wednesday, February 29, 2012

sonnet seventy five

we forge, without disdain,
point to point, tracing
coordinates, horizons, space,
timelessness, soundlessness,

we tread, without remorse,
on burning coals and fragrant
flower beds, on crossroads
and beaten paths

over and over if we must,
to find what gives meaning
and to mean what we find,

to harbor what has been lost
and lose everything to change,
to be alike or different, to be each other's.

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