Wednesday, April 24, 2013



          Tread softly, tread softly, 
          boots marching to the thud 
          of a cobblestoned beat.   
          Tramp on, beat on, 
          A huddled figure in breathlessness,   
          Darkened ruins, impaled.

          Tread softly, more, more softly.
          She clutches ravenous dreams 
          Towards emaciated glow.
          She raises her delicate head, her stalked, 
          fragile-stemmed neck, raises her woman- child 
          Limbs emaciated by hunger.

          Tramp upon, beat upon, softly. 
          Tread most softly.
          Glistening bridges, water furtively stealing 
          Through treacherous nights.
          This night is beyond night, it is morning, 
          It is beyond morning. It is night again. 

          I will laugh and dance 
          Over bridges curved in sunny air. 
          Bitter salt of the great ocean 
          Patiently throbbing. 
          I will walk, I will run
          Spun into green-core earth.

          Arrows pierce a woman's heart in still, 
          Chilled sleep.
          She spins, antique bird of velvet 
          In a carpeted night. 
          I looked for the world everywhere 
          But I did not find it.

          Child-woman resting
          Sleeping peacefully now, 
          Suspended beyond bridges, 
          In dusky glow.

          In spite of this. I still believe that people are good.

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