Other voices in the garden //They long for
the roses.  
They live, boast, play in the soil of a day
so precious.

Too soon the graves bury them all
below only to rise again in the light
as stars that stop burning
the earth, to spend eternity
at the throats of wandering stars.
We Who watched we so Embraced.
The stone.
The earth.
A curious rustling in the grass. A boyish giggle.
A girl’s giggles make Light.
In a house where nothing moves.
Such a strange thing.
That the stars should never
go out.

:: 09.25.2020 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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