The Cipher

Forever, the word digresses
Carved in wood
Underneath the painting,

The sky is motionless,
The trees by the lake,
As a boy was taught,

A wind too, or a spirit
Of laughter, as Time clings on to
The best of us,

An hour approacheth, it says,
With cigarette buds and ashes ornamenting the floor,
As grand as the painting hung on its wall,

And tragic, comic, or absurd, but always
spoken or shown
for our own, human notions.

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