Monthly Archives: October 2017

soldjer bombed dead

the bandage is pointless, will not help him nor no one else who is

dead.

shall i make some more, label them and roll tight ready. we

use the rubber stamp on paper trace through onto rags. it is

a fine pen.

still connected our thread is black.

knotted

quite dead.

you came late, scattering all you saw.

left quickly.

mistakes occur.

soldjer bombed dead.

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based on celestial events

he said it came suddenly as if overnight

a busy man

i watch it slowly rise

fall into gold

leaf drops then another

rain fall while the sun shines

the equinox is not a particular day

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the land

so you cut off your left hand

or was it your right? to

own the land.

to dig and grow.

was it wealth you required

or happy living. one

handed.

bloody mess.

i hear the woodturner

has hurt his finger.

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.dead soldjer.

hurt.

it was a mistake.

sew.

seems i have written much on shame.

with punctuation.

again i say,

that i hurt you

without intention.

shame. an invention

for reflection.

hurt.

you do not speak of him?

the soldier.

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estate 1

shall we go there again?

watch the trees change

write without punctuation?

only question

marks

september is a softer month

energy in those trees spread out as cotton threads

knotted

&

i will not mention the word

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dead soldjers

it happens. mistakes are made.

we do not know why. the

soldjer died.

we have thoughts, dismissed.

&

no one talks of it.

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.brondanw.

time is layered here.

rain came, the historian

remembered.

the dead soldier. passed.

we work in layers.

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