Thursday, April 28, 2011

April Poem 16

It happens when you hear a travelers' tales
Of all her journeys and whatever she remembers
They come shaped out of a huge gypsy flame
And dance about like Macro Polo embers

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  This late night walk after a tough, rough unending day at work. I am so, so exhausted. But this...sweet chutney of wind, lane littered wit...