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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


Sometimes I go nowhere.
Nothing engages me.
My solitude is ineluctable.
I want to be somewhere else,
but not here or there.
What do I want?
Perhaps the place
a bird is flying to?

The journey to the middle
of someone’s story?
Watching the last candle
burn down in a sanctuary?
In fog near the sound of a sea?
Watching a face stare from
a window?

Being inside a memory
and starting over,
but not too far removed?
Wondering how vast the detonation
of my heart would be?
Would there be any stars?
Would spring appear
with wild flowers again?

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