Jacques Maurice

Rookie - 0 Points (New Orleans)

Xxx - Poem by Jacques Maurice

Time passes through so many objects
and whimsically decays them
into nothing now dependable –
ashes, for time is the fire.

Spiraling blackbirds resemble
dark billows of destruction,
forever rising to reveal
their headway into nowhere.

And we must even look up
to see the desperate vision,
or down into the fire
to burn our eyes forever.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 26, 2011



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