2: 20 a.m.
Is what the clock suggests,
engines remonstrating their tiny roars,
Fresh air reaffirming its presence between
the crevices of my fingers and toes,
while pondering the philosophical
making my way out the maze of the wise mind.
and of happiness and Man?
Could there be any
other moment but
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Comments about this poem (2: 20 a.m. by Rafael Cazares )
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