Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Poetry Corner

All The Grey Stars
by Angela C

Go carefully soldier,
Stones cast themselves upward
at the rising moon...

Chords on the wind,
Trumpets in the trees,
Set aside your steely crown

and bury me now.
Forget my satin tongue
and all your praises it spun.

Will you find your voice,
Will you reach that peak
and taste the clouds alone?

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