Friday, June 17, 2011

The low rumble of approaching trains
Silences the clashing of lumbering machinery.
Crickets chirping are soon obscured by the serpentine boxcars.
All of this noise makes what only I hear a lot less dissonant.

I think of you, you, and you.
My priorities are sorted out by the pensiveness evoked by this place.
From love I still find frustration and anger.
A fire still burns, engulfing everything furiously.
The condensation complimentary to this dense humidity, does little to help.

Location is everything.
At this spot, seclusion calls for romance,
But I find it best left untarnished;
There is no need to spoil my Bodhi tree with company.

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