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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

Monday, September 11, 2006


Sometimes Death stands quietly
in bedside corners...
watching, waiting,
somehow knowing the plan.

But there are moments imposed on time
when even Death seems caught off guard
unable to count,
unwilling to look on.

And so began
our autumn of mourning
as grief
......upon grief
.............upon grief
showered down
like ashes from an ancient time...
at home in a fallen world.
© Copyright 2007, TK, Patterns of Ink

Written early Wednesday morning, September 12, 2001
Posted today, the Fifth Anniversary of that event.


Blogger Angel Feathers Tickle Me said...

Love to all......

11/9/06 10:26 PM  
Blogger patterns of ink said...

I wish you well, but for the sake of younger readers... I think I'll cover the cause of your pain disclosed in what was comment 2. I'm sure you understand...

13/9/06 11:59 PM  

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