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// Monday, June 08, 2009

A Breath Away from Dust (Sadness Part 1)

Once upon a time the man in the mirror was a child.
  A child with tireless hands,
  a strong heart,
  and access to an endless garden of ever ripening fruit.

But the vine of intention has long since withered,
 its roots receded;
  The endless garden is now but a patch of brown,
  a poor plot of earth,
  and just a breeze
     and a breath
  away from dust.

Once upon a time the mirror held a child.
 Now all that remains are wrinkles of worry,
 bags of regret,
 a fixed frown,
 and a lifetime of lists—
  lists that only hold a handful of checkmarks.

© Copyright 2009 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.