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Ciel Peacock Poem
Sometimes I wonder
if this metal chain I hold,
Could unwind,
and free the blatantly trapped.
If It could spin them into a new frame,
Of laughing words drawn on cardboard paper,
And others cut into snowflakes.
Write these letters to her,
Form the words you can’t say out loud.
Make a promise,
One of pinky fingers,
And she will listen.
Copyright © Ciel Peacock | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Ciel Peacock Poem
It won’t be long now,
She said.
And her hand danced like waves through the wind,
paving a path through the air,
Building up and crashing down,
Feeling the air push fiercely back out the window of the tire old truck.
How long?
He asked.
And his restlessness brought her peace,
Knowing he at least believed they would come to some destination.
Copyright © Ciel Peacock | Year Posted 2023
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