Presence Poem by Moon Spell

Presence



A note in tune,
Is a brief commune,
The rhythm wavers up and to the left,
A short breath spent,
Lament has sent,
My thought into the tropico of spurt,
Wondering what to sing,
Wander to the tip of the wing,
A feeling tremples up into my brow,
Oh I see you be,
Present in front of me,
Why can I not look into the present being?

Friday, January 16, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: Mind
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