Timid old sole

Sometimes you sit and think

is this a reading upon my mind

and if it is just that or not

then I will need to find remind,

but the words they carry on

like a lodged song to the brain

swimming in my consciousness

as the kissing of spring rain,

and far away to the detriment

preciously upon the drape

it sits in tender scent

dripping from out the gate,

wandering into solitude

through the scattered open view

falling through the winding doors

that lead from out the shoe.

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