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Hail to the Trunk

Marine blue silent night wander
back and forth ... thinking
... combing
... sighing

Silence the wind
and a gentle voice from the brewing
of another cup of black coffe
... to endure ... amnesic night

Cracking doors and hazy footsteps
slow ... gentle ... calm

Humble melody of notes hanging from
the ancient tree of knowledge and charm

The man is pausing

From an overseeing view
Just standing there alone
watching the growth ... of
his memory field

... sighing

"We're all keys"




Prosa av Tom Bombadil
Läst 300 gånger
Publicerad 2011-04-17 22:55



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Tom Bombadil
Tom Bombadil