Bario
May 4th 2008 BARIO
The day breaks so slow, like a question
that does not care to be asked
the mist diffuses, soft light refuses
the answers to which I've been tasked
From out of this drifting miasma
tree's rise and then disappear
it seems what I seek this morning is meek
the whole world is shrunk and unclear
Now slowly, with no explanation
the day deigns I may at last
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