Yowser! for the wrecks of ruins where
I lay a treasure trove away to rest
atop abandoned cloaks with care,
the raw remains to fest-
er in the trunk of sinning junk
what never more could be restored
except to those who bide by muck.
I point to wisdom of the lore
which casts rare pearls out to the swine.
Pour out the wine
o’er coals of yesterday.
Come walk away.
Copyright Maia Twedt 2008
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