Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Mice are dying
It is the cost of being near jets
Of standing under them
And not in them

The force continues to be a force
On land or in the sky
As it pierces the whimsical clouds
Were angels & demons play
Dramatic games of chess

Their immune system is wakened
By their desire
To be so near
Oh so close to
The craftsmen of the air

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