Monday, October 16, 2006

The Continuous Poem - A Beginning

October, almost November, and words carry the weight of frugal colors. Here, I utter the word "lyre" and a chromatism of silvery sounds dispels the quietness of the golden and russet leaves. It's a change of season and a maze of light and darkness renders my syllables weightless.

I'm numb with cold. I think of snow. This is the beginning of my blog:"he who saw everything."

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