Postlude

 
Forgotten, grown old,
busying the days,
little essential,
confused memories scold
from afar, segues
lack the potential
to steer or reform
cloistered attitudes.
While our absent warm
cliched platitudes,
the music retards,
crescendo sotto
voce, bravo regards,
cut flowers...grotto.


--Fr. Veni di Morte

 

 

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