The Equation of Mass
The days on earth wear thin
Like my hair
And where girdles pull in a
Sagging mass
And memory is washed by a
Lunar pull-
Like the tide that washes over
Footprints in the sand
Soon memories are gone
like a dying star grows dim
And I return recycled to
The worms
But my heart knows a better
Place-
Where reserved for me
I know so well-
I will glow in -The eternal day
That is- my permanent home
Brenda V Northeast
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