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Living the Poem

flight of the butterfly, rising free

Artists’ Workshop

Touched by the breezes
And the words of teachings shared
Sweet moments of art

arrival

our fate's arrival
was destined by God Himself
only He knows how

Black Days

June 2, 2008

Black, black, black, black
The only colors I see
Until I close my eyes
Replay that last interaction
     The final scene

Each day the bright reds
Of your crazed manias
Are harder to take

Each day the explosions
Fill me with such dread

Beetle crawling across the
      Moist red bricks
Red spider crawls across
      The knuckles of my clenched hand

Each day
      The separation grows
      The wounded widow flows
      The broken window shows
            The reds and blacks
                   And grays