The Question

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The question of my existence
goes around one more time today,
like ponies gliding up and down
on a merry-go-round.
No one response sticks
flat to the ground.

The fleeting answer speaks
out of a benevolent silence.
Some phrases sound distant,
but mostly it is all close by.

It swings through my open space–
the room where we all breathe–
the volume rising
when the question loves
no answer.

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