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Minney L. Poem
When comes the morning--with the touch of
Night's fingers raking their sorrow across the sky,
Its dreams closed off from consciousness.
It comes, bruised from Night's attempt for shining--
Colors marked--red on orange, pink on yellow, purple dreams.
The skies are dawning her spirit's wings.
Fire likes from the sun, burn with torn tears, at waking
From asleep's breaking. Self is free, like the light,
Going straight nowhere.
Copyright © Minney L. | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Minney L. Poem
Never stop
Smiling-- even if your world be walls
Put under skin, or from sick glaciers,
Melting. From your smile,
Reaches into the holes, stops the blood from
Bleedimg-- breaking on glassy tears, and upward.
Keep face. Love your smile; there is no expression
In that expression that can't burn the heart out, folding
Like a flush in the sun, sweet. Live your smile: reeling.
Copyright © Minney L. | Year Posted 2018
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