Vera’s -- last night
© 2010 Peter Manda
it’s dark tonight.
and my hunger starves me – while.
outside the furnaces roar;
–
and ashes strewn flakes
of snow white
ossifications
–
Falls – or so it seems to those –
of my mind
–
it wishes.
my mother’s arms; and it wishes. –
and a cup of
coffee with my father
Schlag –
And yet. I carry not this Star
because of Them;
but because I know that
without my witness
–
of those their final moments, the night
of my eyes, those
here in these berths with me
-- --
choking.
from the final futility of
fate fostered upon them
–
would never be known.
and they would flow …
like --;
–
warmed up cavemen
dangled into their hands over
and into,
the gaping holes of His-Story.
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