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Time Capsule

And maybe it's just me,
or the clay shell of who I was,
now boxed and maybe even forgotten,
down deep as I sleep
holding tightly to rosary beads,
all of me planted like a loaded cannon.

Or maybe, it's just a seed,
maybe only a small thing now embalmed,
buried down deep,

with all the majesty of creation,
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Saturday, November 25, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: eternity,soul,time
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