Sunday, August 18, 2013

August 17, 2013 Sunday Whirl #122







Dream of Death

Heaped upon the floor
Heart barely beating
Dreamed I died
After years of living
All is quiet

Like time in the 
Canyon land
Breezes through
The pines

The period
Of no sound at all
Or the sound 
Can be measured
Only by degrees
Nestled into space

The length 
Of the run is short
You must be persuaded
To stay in the race
Perfect the vision
A tribute
To the time lived


Note:  Prompt 

floor, heart, stay, dreamed, persuaded, period, degrees,

years, space, nestled, if, vision, tribute

6 comments:

  1. The trick is to stay awake... ;)

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  2. I especially love "perfect the vision A tribute to the time lived". Great write, my friend.

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  3. I enjoyed this--thanks for sharing.

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  4. Annell, this is a bit sad, but beautiful.

    Pamela

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  5. Lovely flow to this poem. Loved it.

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  6. Quiet and contemplative!! Nice write!!

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