In an old trunk off a vessel
anchored in the harbor
fervent forensic scientist
sweeps for truth in the
residue of matter before
skins turn to dust
breeze swirls her cloak
for Sunday whirl five days late:
residue, turn, skins, truth, trunk, matter, breeze, cloak, vessel, sweeps, fervent
Truth cannot always be found...and sometimes will be carried away in the breeze. I am so glad you are posting poems again!
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