Death happens like a falling tree
taking a life swifter than night
the sights the sound, the dreams of the dead
remain present for survivors in light
Of the book of Kismet few have read
concerned with the world and rough scrapings of winter
many would make good life evolve sinter
traveling somewhere to first-last homesteads
To think, perchance to not
invent hard time’s one’s fought
encountering recurring mishapen plans
broadcasting, coiled antinomy to man
true and false networks
praise golden calves of Dan.
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