The Rhythm of Life

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Cells…. 
Moving…. standing still,
Multiplying and dividing.
Worms, buried, making love…
To themselves, in the dead.

Leaves….
Paint…. pap’ring pavements,
And the cracks between toes
And those cells, making love….
To the others, in a bed.

Litter ….
Curling….fighting death,
To be seen, to be read.
And its words, making love….
To the thoughts, in your head.

Railings….
Rusting….keeping out,
The dangers of the darkness.
And his fears, making love….
To the rhythm, that we thread.

Maureen Walsh – November 2011

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