Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 45
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Veil Lifted Upon

In the long ago hinterlands of when you were young
Wind chimes made of seaweed strands echoed like pachinko games
  Swallowed up by constant rains whose afterlife
Still daydreams pen and ink skyscrapers that walk in the dark
Even when my face is touching the cool side of the pillow.


  Ken L. Jones