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Guest Writer

Each passing breath
by Troy Eggleston

hy do such haunted faces surmise
the past, its insignificant lies
when now becomes then
and then stretches thin
dimly lit by fireflies

remember the sun
and its yellow strings
the way a children's chorus sings
the way a raft composed a ship
a closet moth with angel wings
all those things attached to youth
innocence, the simple truth
which slip away with burrowing age
rendering each small miracle aloof

awaken now these sleeping eyes
forgiven of stolen lullabies
for life abounds with each passing breath
swollen in its compromise.

E-mail Troy at leonchester@cosmo.com, and see his previous efforts in our archives.

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