Drip

0
4

drip
drip
drip
the minutes fall from the ceiling
sliding down the walls
s
l
o
w
l
y
come to rest upon the floor
a shallow puddle of existence
f
i
n
a
l
l
y
sinks through the boards and
disappears
q
u
i
e
t
l
y
into the sweet fragrance of Earth
the cool stillness of night.

(Previously published in Write Away, June 2003.)

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