Moving Mountains
November 29th, 2007 · 2 Comments
Seeing the lines left in freshly raked sand,
pleased that yet no footprints appear.
I feel the cold window glass upon my fingertips,
while voices try to distract my thoughts.
Chased from one space to another
by my need for solitude.
Often others find a way to intrude
upon my burgeoning compassion.
Until I secret myself away
and find a sheltered corner.
Where I find myself a space,
to center and collect the person I’ve lost.
…
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