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Lost
Amid the fire of twilight sun
I wish I knew my way
horizon’s char and moonlight’s shun
has ashed my hope I pray
for dark cloud constellation to free
a steed for me to flee gunshot streets
for primrose to steal my jaundice
and burn the itch in roadside stars
for me to follow scent and sight
and find forsaken door
to open with my key contrite
a waif who’s lost no more
but gods of dirt and sky refuse
this pessimist with optimist dreams
primrose mowed as needle holes grow
nebulae-scars of blown-vein bruises
a morphine horse runs dirty track
while stars in alley air
just stare and offer not but black
expanse — my nowhere lair
Copyright ©
Susan Ashley
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