we are pushed through a transom
the warmth becomes coldness
the familiar becomes strange
we are pushed through a revolving door
the coldness becomes warmth
the strange becomes familiar
the stars in the sky
are spelling out a message
take time to read it
THE KNOTHOLES OF HEAVEN
the angels on high
are gazing down on us
as we shuffle through the lines
of the amusement park
© Copyright 2016 moonphish. All rights reserved.
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