Childhood
Just a child, owl-eyed,
touched by darkness.
Standing now in sober light,
dark-rimmed circles dilate, shut,
another rider on the wheel.
Prism
This life we hold in common,
nailed to nothing more than breath,
bends us, creatures of light,
as if we are shadows on a wall.
Diner 3am
Night turns its screw.
Smell of coffee,
potatoes and onions on the grill,
night’s stale perfume,
light leaves its fluorescent kiss on everything.
I especially like the second stanza. And the last line. Really enjoyed this one.
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Thanks Bob, I really appreciate it.
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Really love what you’re doing with these Mystery Cave poems. Loving the three-short-poem format. I like seeing how the ideas in each bounce off of each other.
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Thanks Johnny, this little device is working for me right now.
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uh, huh – I’m starting to get a feel for what you do here; I’ll be back
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