Friday, October 06, 2006

Incommunicado

I am a
Table

I
Do not speak

And
No one
Speaks with me.

And each autumn
I
Remember

What it was like
When I
Was a
Tree.
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1 comment:

Shailja said...

Hey - this is such a perfect poem - so brief and yet says so much.
Like most of the stuff you have written - truly a poet writing - but this poem is THE best.
regards
shailja

11:18 am

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