finding my voice
using it well to mine
a wave of poems
loden in the bedrock
below the basement
of my soul
the voice
getting hoarse
i feel it waning
the vein is baning out
the well, just sludge
the river, wadifying
the metaphors
coming up lame
bereft and wandering
in a world gone mad
lonely in a loving fold
joy coming only
from the stars
in the desert
night sky of
my mind's eye
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