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Jen Finnigan Poem
Morning broke; it shattered nicely,
the fallen ice spoke spirits
in orifices of rapture;
twixt the glade, seasonly came,
early, always,
and unnoticed,
waking we to ponder, when?
and again, when,
we emerge from our own
homilies of fragile and
intermittent vitality,
to ponder the cause
of nature, as our wondrous,
manifest God.
Copyright © Jen Finnigan | Year Posted 2009
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Details |
Jen Finnigan Poem
I was abdicated, not once, but many times
by many different people;
but still, each rejection
drove a cool red down, down,
in between my teeth
which were ground-white stubs
of glum, glum, glum.
And the way they tread on my tenderness
is still agony, made so much more so
by my embarrassment, my resentment,
and my pride, and the
cool, cool, red of my
inside, made my heart stop
its glum, glum, glum
In the sun, I was a happy critter -
so able and content a child
just rampant; a worshipper
of the spring, but when life stopped itself,
midway through, I
could not help but be a little
glum.
Copyright © Jen Finnigan | Year Posted 2009
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