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Poem: Wasted


(For National Poetry Month I am writing a stream-of-conscious poem per day. Each poem is  a spontaneous poem single edit – could get messy!  Here is Poem #23.)

hourglass trickles,
marking our passing,
basaltic iota
all ashes and dust,
trapped inside
a vitreous casing.

polish it;
rub it;
make it all gleaming,
see how it flows
ever so freely
taking our time
back to the dreaming.

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