Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Your facts are only three dry twigs...

Your facts are only three dry twigs,
good for nothing but the fire.
Go back to your chores, upstart.
No one wants to hear your mumble.

She tucked the branches
under her shirt, close to her heart.
Listening to their songs,
together they walked on.

The girl, the twigs, the songs, the facts.

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