Strange how thought's drift.
Vision twists along moebus
band of cool light
imprisoned in reflection
on a moon tide pool.
All sides of a question follow
this shimmering filament
to trace itself once more
unspoken, unresolved, unending.
She draws strength from her known
on which she stands; but the Earth
rises up to cry, Have a care
where you tread, this time.
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edited 08.03.10