where no one means to say just what is true
the echoes of the past become less clear
some things are done that others might not dare
what keeps things going is no kind of glue
we make our choices and we do not rue
just what was said and what we had to spare
beyond the normal attitudes of care
we will let happen all that might ensue
a sort of fugue between this time and that
not to be sure just what we most desire
fact after fact is not what we'd proclaim
the message comes out sharp rather than flat
with choristers raising each note higher
and every archer unsure of his aim
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
27 November 2007
active listening
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