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Seven Nielsen May 2021
Only the pinwheel spiral shapes
of the fuchsia and heliotrope galaxies
tell us in what direction they spin
as they travel at thousands of miles per hour-
yet, in their vastness, they seem as immovable
as the patience of God
Seven Nielsen May 2021
Opening the heart
is like the blossoming of a flower --
Once begun
miracles happen --
Seven Nielsen May 2021
Each day begins as an unwrapped gift
that when opened should be lived
in the most hopeful way
                But
Sometimes I feel like rewrapping my gift
and going back to bed
Seven Nielsen May 2021
When blinks the sun out her eye
that last orange spot between mountain peaks -
and the sky and clouds ignite in flame,
the earth glows in her joy at being bathed
if only for a moment
in twilight's precious gold -
Seven Nielsen May 2021
the Puckrum-Buck clan lived down by the Keowee River
     in a tar-paper shack
their heads were either too big or too small
and their eyes were deep-set like in a cave -
     blackened teeth
          blotchy skin
               bald patches
                    and all disproportionate

old Garold was missing one eye, and his left leg
his eye patch was a piece of ***** handkerchief
stuffed right into the socket
he wore dirt-slicked overalls and a homemade pegleg -
Ma Puckum-Buck's filthy hair was ******* with a shoelace
her dresses were floursack rags
stretched over a bloated frame
                but when the Puckrum-Bucks got together
                they could sing like angels -
                a grimy sideshow
                                          of harmonic angels
Seven Nielsen Apr 2021
-----------Just--------------
         how
     good
    does
        a poem
                  have to be
                                 to be on Front page ?                       
                                                                ­    ?
                                                           ­          ?
                                                               ­       ?
                                                               ­         ?
                                                             ­             ?
                                                             ­                ?
                                                               ­                 ?
                                              ­                                       ?
                        ­                                                                 ­  ?
                                                             ­                                   ?
                            ­                                                                 ­        ?
                                                               ­      (I'm asking for a friend)
Seven Nielsen Apr 2021
A
day
when I
think again
of you, is a day
when I search my
threadbare  heart for
just one memory of our
times  together on  those
wonderful lavender days
before those solemn
talks of "honesty"
when you

left me
 with only a tear and a broken hope
On such days, I see your face lit by sunshine
while I see my face reflected the growing puddle of dispair
There is a curse that seems to come with ambivalent and juxtaposed memories which tends to split and facet recollections.  Accuracy becomes undependable.
(I'm just guessing).
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