Never Lit!
E
Eric Cockrell
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we are but
small burnt memories,
unnamed ashes that smolder.
blades of grass never speaking,
small stones half buried.
dust on the windowpane,
raindrops that fall
and then rise...
straw gathered for the nest,
the silence of the eggs.
the tongue, and the ear,
the moment that does not pass.
the lid on the box,
the nails shaped like prayers.,
nothing, everything...
candles never lit!
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