Old Journal Entries

Pages of past musings

flutter by, dusted with age

old posts long since

devoid of inhabitants

speaking out the emptiness

a tale retold.

Days drift without visiting

I, passing quietly,

reflect distracted on the weather

momentary minutes of

an every day.

But still it sits there

waiting

for ink to color the rest of its

blatantly empty pages.

That when finally I scale its walls

enter into its domain

all I can write is

Here I am again.

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