nothing concluded 147

as if none

with the same name

have been written

standing so close

to perfection

nearly falling

off the edge

nothing concluded

everyone else is asleep

somehow he escapes

un-tired

pulling through

until the night

ends uneventful

nothing concluded

in the perfect fog

to get lost in finding

a thought beneath

the snow melting

before eyes

if you have the patience

or the time

preferably both

eyes glued to the road

ensures a healthy ride home

what if man never made it

to the moon

and what if the Tsunami

was a weather weapon

nothing concluded

no matter how you see the glass

still have to prop lids

in order to see

for the required interval

everything changes

minute to minute

my brother isn't answering

a call put in another hour

philosophizing within the self

nothing concluded

again becomes the consistent mantra

over times ten or even 100

who knows what the Popsicle epitaph

really meant who knew it would spawn

years of serial poetry...