Wednesday, December 19, 2012


Light is like cement:
Light really doesn’t care
About the sky’s intent.
Light is simply there.

Powdery as talcum,
Or piled high like snow,
At Herculaneum,
We watch it overflow

Empires and forts,
Footprints in the bath,
Leaving knowledge, of sorts.
Light is all we have.

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