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( reply to Sappho )*

I took my guitar to the sea and said:
'Come now heaven, these fingers bled,
Wrangle and rain for thoughts you deign
And all the listeners dumb shall proclaim,
Strings are merely— vibrations of the soul
And soul is merely one mirror to the gods,
Take my dying art and throw it— to wind
Hear my song, strung, sept to your kin.'
I Took My Lyre

I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly
tortoise shell: become
a speaking instrument

                 — Sappho, ( circa 600 B.C. )
.
 Sep 2015 Jack Rechsteiner
katie
This is my family
splayed out like a fox
caught in the headlights of a
passing car, all brown fur
& wandering teeth,
dried up & tossed on a lonely street.
Left behind unaware of
the wreckage caused,
the family bereft of a sister
 & daughter so loved.
That's what I see from the clouds,
from my imagined suicide.
I see a lost family
trying not to stare at a
huge empty chair.
A Christmas table now a shadow,
not a celebration but a day to fear
& that stops any thoughts I
might have about trying to
disappear.

— The End —