A Black Feather, A poison pen...

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tone poem for a deceptively bright day

a spring-like winter
green january grass
but the air is too still
and in the evening lamplight
you can see the haze
as it blurs the edges and slowly,
but subtly steals the air

each breath is a slow, discreet poison

2:05 p.m. - 2006-01-13

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a jump to the left - a step to teh right