a Silence pauses over us of melted Time

& we are Waves at The Timeless (beach
never so timely) come to eyes--& there

breaking against Muted rocks

or fading for the air

flutteringly

... the alabaster butterflies

tiptoed a sense of loss over

my carbon paper--                  
              & after they'd flown off
I rushed to see what message ineffable their feet had
left me--But,                  

       it'd been a worn-out, old
& used-up carbon paper--And I never
could recover its sense  

       --O loss...