sirens sing the angels home
devils smile their angry breath
drawing forth
words crashed against the breaker
all the while saying,
the road ahead is lined
with broken dreams
carry on this one-way obstacle
hauntingly weightless
in this hollow horizon
never to feel
these long tired dreams
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
such a waste
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3 comments:
angelou,emerson, cummings .....each poem a labor of love taking days, hours,weeks...the orchid mask...each poem taking moments, seconds, minutes..........your art is breathtaking
Reminds me of a young person being loaded into an ambulance after sustaining a life-altering injury..perhaps from a snowmobile?
That's life in the North.
not those type of sirens...lol.
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