Late Night Dew
Slowly rolling,
like a bowling ball thrown by a child,
You move.
Unknown of your destination,
You glide with such intent.
Like a tear from tired and heartbroken eyes,
You fall down to the ground never to be seen again.
Your trail leaves a reminder,
A reminder of destruction and pain.
Yet created and placed ever so softly,
Like a new born baby in its crib.
You are loved,
yet also feared.
You caught my eye, as with heres,
For that, my respects I pay
This poem was written by Dan Finlayson on Feb 10, 2006.
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