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May 2014
Somewhere at the watercourse-
Silvery brume.
Shining through, like pulsing light-
Golden iris are in bloom.

Tongues of brazen flame-
Snap their reflection against the lukewarm mirror-
This is where order looms.

Felicity-
Serenity-
Vestigial depression.
Second guesses-
Underwhelming quests in wrong directions.

Oh elixir. Oh watercourse-
Oh inanimate eloquence.
How you tempt me with your evocative consonance.

You remind me of a woman-
Her husband and her son-
To me you are a drifter-
You remind me of the sun-
You remind me of a king-
of a man with sore eyes-
Mourning late son.
In the mornings sun rise.

Watercourse watercourse-
Lazy eyed shadow.
Left handed perfectionist-
Seething pale shallow.

Watercourse watercourse-
Your body feeds the worms.
Your souls seams have torn.
Watercourse watercourse.
Quinton Horras Yard
Written by
Quinton Horras Yard  The Midwest
(The Midwest)   
1.7k
 
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