Thursday, October 06, 2011

Happy National Poetry Day!

Considering the day here's a poem:


He packs boxes day in and day out,
repeats this over and over and over

while machines whir and hum he whistles,
never looks at clock, discerns time and

seasons branch like lines and veins on his hand.

Maybe in his mind he is elsewhere,

perhaps in a cool mountain
forest or swimming in a moonlit lagoon.

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