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About This Poem
silversmith of dream
dreams frolick
in the basket of the mind
like easter eggs on sunday grass
pastel hands for slowing time....
a hazy trusting face,
just beyond the frosted glass
a spirit mare with feiry mane
that licked the heart, with lips aflame
waved hello
then
blackhanded
your naive face
good times coddled a purple star
within a blackened space
in place of friendly smiles without names
who taught you the art of
forging then forgetting scars
with a silly smile,
turned a room into blueberry wine
then sliced their life away
the drummer drums the songs in dream
ice cream trucks and noon church bells
flow into the soul like rose petals on the wind
strumming songs of love and pennance
like streams of bile and gilded rosary...
they're all gone now,
the flesh-the bone the bitter laughs
the metal of youth turned into the thinning cloth of age
things meant to live and breathe,
will give the soul to the silversmith
that rolls life into shimmering dreams
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