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Monday, December 31, 2007

Turning back to unadorned verse


I found this fragment of an idea laying in my virtual pile of half-written poems. I'm not sure what inspired it or when, but I decided to flesh it out a little and see where it took me.

This morning I
By Francis Scudellari

This morning I woke to a dream;
Red-topped vision in black slipped by;
Eyes corner-caught for a second;
Blurred, moving fast, in vain I tried
To hold it stop-motioned, moment
Freeze forever; Instead, she grabbed
Me, my heart, and close kept it locked
As she vanished out the door
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