Wednesday, July 20, 2011


The fear of mortality is constant
like the dial tone in a telephone
Till the crackling voice
Full of life, says something.
Pleasant or unpleasant.
It doesn't matter.
The voice that had gone out
to work, to win bread
to fetch vegetables
to run a random chore
Has to come back
With a sprightly tone.
If not, what else will?

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