A mist of old memories hangs on this morn.
Twitching at intervals of recourse.
While Stunned, static, silhouettes
Coalesce into forms.
I know now of you, what you mean.
Come now, delight here.
For animated gloom
Lurks here like an open dream.
And they, in dance about me, I count off:
Viper, tennis, capitol, blue.
Harbinger, aspen tree, candle, food.
After time, all appear, but they dance off.
Not one sip of your soul have I drunk
I hear nothing--Dead silence
in the midst of this junk
Though reason tell me: Rhapsody
I feel wrought in doubting thought.
Where does the sea eventually take me?
For I fear I've gotten lost.
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