For Gail

Posted on

Throw on her roses, roses

But never one that’s white

The only speed she knows is

The colorfilled speed of light.

 

Her life was running, running

Through a maze of heat and sound

seeking a fount of meaning

That one else had found.

 

Her restless ruthless spirit

Dragged her flesh along behind

And when her body failed her

She cauterized it with her mind.

 

We hear the echos, echos,

From the drumbeat of her life.

They roll along the shoreline

Of the frightened sea of time.

 

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