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INFUSED

by W. Mahlon Purdin

When I read or hear something I love
It lights a fuse that can burn for years.
So that means -- with me infused --
You could be in my poems now.

We think the days go by quickly.
But they creep by like molasses. Every moment counts.
So each little reading or hearing could be the one
That does what the one does.

The thought of you in those long silences when I sit with hands clasped on elbows
And dream through my eleven terabytes, hoping for a word or thought --
No holds barred -- makes me think you're in there now.
In my muse matrix.
And then what I think and what I write
Becomes a stolen thing, something of you I cannot escape.
Do I owe you credit? A footnote somewhere.
You placed an idea into my care. It fell to paper God knows where.

01/28/2013

Posted on 02/08/2013
Copyright © 2024 W. Mahlon Purdin

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