Phone rings in the empty room
Faraway ground shudders
Unanswered hand, unspoken words.
Silence hangs still
Becomes a body bag
Later, a shroud.
Over the dead, grow
the trees of geneology.
One branch here too short.
And for years that come
An uncrossable
bridge of silence.
Faraway ground shudders
Unanswered hand, unspoken words.
Silence hangs still
Becomes a body bag
Later, a shroud.
Over the dead, grow
the trees of geneology.
One branch here too short.
And for years that come
An uncrossable
bridge of silence.
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