Wednesday, August 12, 2015

AN AESRED POEM




The old muse remembers a poem
That, beginning in silence,
Sank into a cold stillness
That grew fainter as it retraced
A street into a quiet heart.
She cannot recall the ending
But thinks a marvelous clown
Entered midway and danced
Magically, in green slippers
Which made no sound.

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