A Moon Worn As A Shell
A down-on-his-luck jazz pianist wanders through dim alleyways.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Thauma's Riddle
Of two, when asked
why must we die?
one
unfeld a pliable hide
proffered an oleander bud
uncrushed
and held it toward the light
the other
postured shoulders deep
en cloak
embracing untold sleep
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