I Know
In the blink of an owl
I would miss it,
save for the eye - catching moon
to that shooting star, -
as the span of my life
to the age of the earth ;
from cradle to grave
I would miss it -
that soil disturbed for no one,
the bat to the belfry there
is more akin to me,
more than that clock-hand click
on the rotting flesh below;
the cause of all is hidden here
by virtue of what it has to show, -
what the eye - catching moon
has shown me, I know.
Copyright © Roy Austin | Year Posted 2008
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