blurred words


By Mike O’Connell
in old notebooks
there reside blurred words
washed by tears but
not erased yet
years have been
overtime to quell
used emotions
dead end dramas
on to wrinkled friends
as if they were whole again
as alive as they ever were
repeating shared memories
young again
eyes open
but blinded by the world
not understanding
that the force that moved
the pen
the brush
was temporarily finite
glowing in the growing night
nearly complete
eyes open for changes
signifying wider range
of awareness
as the rest of the body
withers with words
the champions
of the soul
a soft light
in the unfolding night


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