Wednesday, May 16, 2018

poem of the day May 16


Along the small tired peace path
hanging on  the cliff
between the moon and mars
were certain sights that can only be
viewed at sun rise
I was watching with the masses 
but most eyes were interested
in the sights you could only see
when the sun goes down
There somewhere over the smelly dark rainbow
the spider ate curd at the womb
Over in the belly another fire had started
in the long trench 
keeping war alive
so it could kill
the very flame that
had given it life
I keep thinking about that spark 


and how easy it is for some to mistake a pretty candle for a gun

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