THIS IS A POEM ABOUT THE WORK AND THINGS THAT DRIFT IN WIND AND FIRE 10.4.17

10.4.17

 

The work will always be there
even here
even now.
The rest drifts like dust
in wind
in fire.
Yet the work is all we strive for
beyond life
beyond legacy.
My father’s dying faster
each day
each moment
Yet I am locked away creating
for him
for me
for nothing.


Written at 10:23 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA. 

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