Traveling Raconteur

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Dancers, Dreamers

Sitting beside a potted orange plant my mother waters everyday,
in a third floor balcony
and on a rocking chair…
I see a hazy red sky over me
and below in the courtyard,
five young veiled girls
in black from head to toe
are welcoming the downpour
with open arms,
hushed giggles
and looking up at the sky
that has drenched them in seconds
I see them come together
for a group hug
and from here
they look like
one big black happy rose
enjoying water sent from above

… now they’ve dispersed
as the mosque calls for prayers

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This entry was posted on June 25, 2014 by in Something Like Poetry and tagged , , .

Fighting An Additction

Not One MoreSeptember 12th, 2014
Addiction is a curse one allows upon one's self until it ceases to seek permission. I do not like the idea of a mind controlled by substance. If I can refrain for 30 days, I'd be very impressed with myself.

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