Definition Poem

IMG_2651

It’s the looming horror
of looming horror. It’s

not seeing the ice for
the freeze. It’s seeing

the jumble or not that
defines a thought
outside the distracted

noise and noisome
breeze. It’s the faint

glow below an eclipse.
What am I? It’s not

a riddle that got an
answer. It’s not an
answer, it’s a thought.

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