Tuesday, May 31, 2011

writing

in growing hope there is a wind,

a history fades to scattered parts,

behind curled in on itself,

a market is full of vibrations,

people live together,

in a pile of life,


there is a light shining,

lost among light scattered, burned.

curled in on itself,

fresh vegitables sold,

a city of favorites,

living together,

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