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Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Elegy of Nicholas S. Austin (If He Had Never Moved)

A mountain falls.
A cloud bursts.
The sun cries.
The moon dies.
Earth blinks her eyes.

Infants wail, and there’s destruction by hail.
A runaway blade gets caught in the sail.

First comes the storm, then comes the rainbow,
And the on-lookers staring, shall soon come to know,
that with a bad beginning comes a fitting end.
An end deserving of all.