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Darrell Lindsey Poem
the woman with threadbare clothes
takes out the wedding dress
that was never worn--
she still waits for a soldier
after all these years
Copyright © Darrell Lindsey | Year Posted 2012
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Darrell Lindsey Poem
tequila worm faces dabble in Dali.
I depart for deeper woods,
take matches
to a snoozing clown—
watch moonbeams become the vortex of a raw swarm.
I must wait for pesky dawn roulette angels
to spin into black pockets,
try to hold these blurred poses of planet plentiful
as the sound of seventh son's tambourine
drifts from the hysterical sea
where Van Gogh's ear is a conch shell.
Copyright © Darrell Lindsey | Year Posted 2012
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Details |
Darrell Lindsey Poem
He painted men with long beards and missing teeth,
bent women with canes,
lonely children walking through meadows
on their way back home.
At night, he would study each shade,
each shadow of their lives
in the ramshackle cabin
he inherited from his father.
Sometimes he said he could feel them
guiding the brush,
hear their voices
singing to the starry night.
Ah, to hear him hum
when the shapes, colors, and moods on the canvas
captured a bit of what it means to be human,
all too human.
Copyright © Darrell Lindsey | Year Posted 2011
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