REMINISCENCES
Why do that hour come buzzing back.
With floating, forgotten memories.
Pencil in my lips I contemplate.
Why do such things trouble me?
Ah! no followers in the WINDOW to the world.
Strains of unsung music and unfinished dialogues come in.
Thoughts being transformed to wispy smoke.
Untouched; unbleached; into the vast dark black unknown expance.
Why do that hour come buzzing back.
With floating, forgotten memories.
Pencil in my lips I contemplate.
Why do such things trouble me?
Ah! no followers in the WINDOW to the world.
Strains of unsung music and unfinished dialogues come in.
Thoughts being transformed to wispy smoke.
Untouched; unbleached; into the vast dark black unknown expance.
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