Tag Archives: Middle way

If I’d Write the Day…Three Hundred Twenty Five

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They were cloud makers
Sending burned signals
Across urban skies

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If I’d Write the Day…Three Hundred Twenty Four

Helo
(a poem for H.)

Whirling blades of
Low elevation

Under the clouds
Above the cares

A floating incantation

The untouchable spin
By downdraft winds

Reaching out hands
Linger in hesitation

Moving in hover

The anticipating ground
Stirs, becoming lover

A final touch down
Settling shimmered flakes
In afterglow dust

Swallowed by grabbing
Fingers of gravity

Again Still
Until Again

Our next lift of
Low elevation

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If I’d Write the Day…Three Hundred Twenty Three

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Spawned
View up from rained day
Winged messenger
On lit street way

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If I’d Write the Day…Three Hundred Twenty Two

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She wore
Identity on vest

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If I’d Write the Day…Three Hundred Twenty One

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Linked
The silhouettes
Marched yester-year
As the day played on

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If I’d Write the Day…Three Hundred Twenty

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Torn
Exposed
Last breath
Building death

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