ALLEN'S INFLUENCE

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JOURNAL #22

there is a rush of such proddings pull

there is distance up ahead

bankrupting what is left of my nerves

I listen

as sweetest is my muse

when addressed

in such a sudden waking

God's very own kiss

buses my soul

puts words in a place

where only truth's words

can flourish

waste

is the spirit's bath water

thrown out

carelessly

while still plenty warm..........

(Dec. 10, 1999)






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