Saturday, January 23, 2021



poem by e.e.cane

Jan. 23, 2021

Never still, 

can't speak clearly with

all the movement

Once saw October awakening,

cool assurance piqued

through stillness and breeze

Three broken branches argued

on the way down, lay concealed beneath 

leaves for all their chatter

Perhaps silence is a good thing 

Allows focus on sweet memories,

deep enough for pride

When there breathes purity,

silence settles unseen,


A witness bore me safely through my own chatter

that I have my awakening, 

my assurance that I was here for these things

though I spoke of them not

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