April 12, 2011
The perfectly entwined rope
Glided in the warm summer breeze,
The circular path goes on and on,
Each turn following the same journey,
Invading the same surrounding air

With each turn, the rope wears,
Hitting the same worn place on the ground
Once new, now old-
The rope still turns over and over
Still swaying, still moving
Same cycle, unchanging

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