I want all of my own sad faces
to gather around.
I need them all to finally fall
into the breathless water ...
to gasp and struggle with one more falter,
then be emptied and deathly bound.
But knowing they will always be dimly seen,
lifting up and drifting down.
Their distilled reflections will sometimes appear
without any sounds.
They will warn me of where my future might drown
if I fear the hope my opening eyes have found.

©1993 John Grinaker
©1997 Karen Pecnik

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