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Monday, October 17, 2011

Depression

The sun warms my cheek and I
smile like a tree in spring. My shoes
are the concrete foundations of cities
abandoned for years and my toes,
like roots, burst through them
just as easily. Into the earth, they dig
like excavators digging new foundations.
I close my eyes against the sun’s
phosphorous light. I am concrete drying:
pointless and transient, waiting
for trees to grow in a hundred years time.



Copyright 2011 by T.J. Blackburn