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Friday, November 30, 2012

old poem

grounded dreams of dreary days
lie cradled on the shore
of oceans spent on goddess ink
to ask for so much more

Where are the bloated visions of yesteryear
grumbling, gurgling, feasting on the lore
they lie now in numbered graves
brittle and rotten at the core

to leap from mountains became
to hop from hills
to skip on moondrops
now to pace the shore

of the dreams you once had
when worry was a boy

to walk the moon
the eye of night
as she folds you
in her silent dress

to talk with death
the sigh of life
as he holds you
to his viral breast

dusty black and dreaded white
where went your roaring breath

it left you at the edge of hope
where skeletons of monstrous plans
smother in the stink of life

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