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Post by MoonyLuna on Jan 13, 2009 12:11:51 GMT -5
Words without much use now. Unable to remake the thing. And I thought
what should I think— followed by: spring light looks like feathers. (Birds
seemed conveniently decorous.) What then does this leave I asked
& was surprised to know so quickly—that my understanding of what the light & birds
could not be made to mean would not detract from them as they
were. Bound by feathers (a thought, I will admit, born of artifice alone)
they bore themselves aloft. What could I counter with? I, who held my heart
in offering as much for show as for a fear so deep I found I couldn't name it.
Copyright Allen Edwin Butt
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Post by MoonyLuna on Jan 13, 2009 12:13:13 GMT -5
Featured Poet Allen Edwin Butt
Allen Edwin Butt lives in Beaufort, South Carolina, and is a student at Presbyterian College. This is his first appearance in print.
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