Does It All Get Blown Through? (Work In Progress) Poem by Paul Wilson

Does it all get blown through
The aching void of bone and blood
The stroke of flesh between the two?

Does the mortal enemy
Dance here between? (The roses' bed
is dry as dust!) Does dance with me?

So distantly the siren-song
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You leave me, lose me, leading on

The branch is laid across the flood
Between two worlds; I reach and touch.
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How can the whirlwind wind me now?