Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Conscience

Sometimes

it doesn’t hurt too much

and one can sleep

responsibly



Other times

we know

that our roots are collapsing

into abstract pieces



where if we stare

long enough

certain parts become

visible to us



Sometimes

it remembers

when our entrails

were unconscious of aging



Other times

our shadow

reminds us of form

it once knew



Sometimes it overtakes us

like radiation

Other times we bask

in the glow of its presence



Sometimes

we know it’s an albatross

Other times

the burning rope that was flung



from our desolate spires

genuinely lands

deep inside its

unflinching

arms



copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona

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