A Poem by BZ
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Title: A Poem
Author: B.Z. Nictitch
Evan the stones Are impateint As a black shroud Of years is as one day. Rocks are heard to resurrect, By innocent eye glasses conquerd, Near a synagogue of children, Now lost somewhere on abandonded fields. Jets over ashen heavens, Cover the heads of piolets, We remembering Neighbors, Who will not look back at you. The wind has loosed itself, From a half century of murdered lines, An obituary of stars, Notices only the nights breathing.