deepundergroundpoetry.com
< immortality >
the faces in the picture
the grasp of each finger
taken from that very instant
as two hands
joined together in
some promise of 1948
now rests in my hand
saved by some dead child
of some dead mother
and i put it down
and lead my heart
to the next box
the next tomb
the voices of silence
they come together
in the midst of this clutter
of old gifts and promises
waiting here
waiting for no one
- - -
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