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Thursday, 2 August 2012

Using a white glove

I will not shake your hands today 
Agreed at last, where fever's pitch 

No I am not w'h angered begrudge  
What a waste of emotion that would be 

To hold as stands on respond 
To alarm my heart beat as fast as show 

I have seen the biggest tree fall with loud thunder 
Just on the angered wish of the west winds 

Who then came to regret rage poured 
For as the tree fell it crushed a few seedlings 

And for that no one sided with the west wind 
I will not shake your hands today 

That should be enough to show intent 
To allow winds passage and leave you standing 

At most, and most if I am forced to, on civil grounds 
I will be wearing a white glove to make meaning void 
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  1. I just read the perfect poem of strength and determination. Effective prose, a pleasure to ponder.

  2. Loved your word imagery! Powerful!

  3. Boy, you really took this a different direction.

    Well done.



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