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Chasing Thousand Sands

by Christopher Shin

The smell is familiar
as the musk explodes.
My senses dive further
as I lunge forward.

The trees hold
so many stories
of me and my own.

I hear the raptor call,
and I fling myself
with broken twigs
snapping like bones
beneath my feet.

So I run away,
and I chase the
meaning.

But there isn't any,
and I track
the fallen prey
of nothing and me.

I follow my tail
only to find
no meaning in not.

02/28/2010

Posted on 02/28/2010
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin

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