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Each Blink Interrupts the World
Sleep steeped beneath a blanket comes
As snowflakes fall to silent tympanums.
A shade of daffodils between the windmills turning
Yields a darker flame of leaves still burning.
Sunlight reflected from your eyes
Between the lines of dualism, where singularity lies.
A brook flowing through a down of meadows
where voices babble a meaningless rush
over stones we call mountains
into drops we call seas
to a place that is silent
of needs.
Copyright ©
Vernon Witmer
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