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Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Eternity's Cookware

 Eternity's Cookware

I went forward into obscurity

For the same reasons most

People enter their finality

Everything is behind in life

Rotting pears collecting wasps

Memory isn't pleasing anymore

Photos have all been seen

All that's wanted is the blank

It is not controlling depression

It is not a repetitive mind 

Simply put its the metal bowl

Struck with a handy can opener

That sounds a ring of a bell

From a monastery overseas

The monks gathering in a hall

The bowl echoes with itself

Of countless loaves of bread

Meatloaves filled with oats

Bits of onions spilling outward

Timelessness as it strikes

The hour of a last supper

Drink up and taste the dirt

Eternity cooks your universe

Barry G. Wick

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