Dancing Light Poem by david gerardino
Dancing Light
HIS words were rusty,
his life standing behind
old, there was artficial
chatter coming from out
side, and a dancing light
my room.
HIS hands break these locks,
his legs push and push, until
they find forward,
his eyes open, then close, then
settle in this bipoler storm.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
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4/29/2024 10:03:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
