Falling fast blind rush of speed dry earth nurtures not the seed unclaimed discarded unbequeathed the bounding heart belies the deed Too late we hear the mouse trap's spring garbled song the madman sings as endless as his golden ring frantic flutter broken wing The smell the stench of rotting flesh the milky sweet of baby's breath juxtaposed and viewed against unblinking eye of vacant death Post Comments Please Login to post a comment Eleanore Bourner Date: 6/15/2010 6:39:00 AM excellent poem. also, thanks for telling me my typos. my fingers must have sliped when i was typing :) ------Ell
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