White Tears
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a feather drifted on the breeze
to bless a crying clown
and found one praying on his knees
his white-face dripping down
the feather came to rest, a-chin
and whisper'd soft his ear
'I'm not for tickling you to laugh ...
I've come to catch a tear'
the sad old clown recalled his child's
blue eyes, that heaven took
a dampened feather 'tween the leaves
his wee one's fav'rite book ...
white tears to fill a brook.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Completely New (7) Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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