Poem by Francis Curran
Out at mans feet lays creation,
All sorted and shifted, its nature's
Ups and downs, indexed dusted: down
At mans feet lays himself
And everything that ever moved,
Done always as it had to be done,
When mostly done for it could
Be done; everything passes being
A possibility at some point.
Comments about (n) Lifeblood by Francis Curran
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