2 Poems Written At Different Times But In the Same Place
Blue—
Like the color of his eyes and
Blue means nothing to me cuz it’s
Cold—
Like the feeling in your eyes
And the lakes we used to go swimming in
Late January on the Delaware
-
Flying over the ocean—
Greyest night
Watching the water churn, churn against the sky-fire burning bright.
Don’t cease your reaching towards the light.
It shines through gaps of the blackest night
Fire, burn, your way is right.
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