Untitled - December 27, 2001

The words travel across a glass bridge
of a thousand miles
forming a pleasant distraction
from the monotone evening.

Each word becomes another line
in the image 
that is drawn
from the imagination.

Even after all the echoes fade
with the dimming of the evening light,
the words remain in the annals of time
until reality replaces memory
once more.

    Source: geocities.com/pdt_bear/pomes

               ( geocities.com/pdt_bear)