Mirrors at Woody’s

Boys, standing still.
Parents, standing still.
Locals, standing still.
Columns, standing still.
The sea, standing still.

Neverending array of mirrors at Woody's
Somewhere, deep within, are the futures.
The left me is looking through me to the right me
I protest and they are now dancing along,
A whole batallion of me is following me.

You cannot have salt with that,
But you can have a pair of wings,
You cannot have past with that,
But you can have so, so many things.

Pictures, standing still.
Dreams, standing still.
Destinies, standing still.
Outcomes, standing still.
Futures, standing still.

(December 9th, 2015)

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