`
revolutions of the second hand
are innumerable to the watchful eye,
which has not comforted this bruising
...shame
nor can heart's run far enough away
from pulsing, cancerous gangrene;
and off to the darkest mile it treads
...softly
in the cooling of a fading day,
a gentle crushing blow fixes completely
the drowning, despondent smiles
...of yesterday
as wafting wavelets wail forlornly,
while whispering affections now silent;
hearkening back to more innocent times
...found wanting
`
Frederick Kesner
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-thoughts-meander/
