Thursday, December 25, 2003

walk the poem

It is time
sweep the porch
clear out the cobwebs

Time to walk the precincts
of this poem
explore the haunted avenues

Time to explore the vowels
the hidden chambers
between the sounds

Sweep your forehead
crawl forth from your womb
awake to crystal blue morning

Stride forth from dead language
feel new sounds echo
from your throat's tender stops

Wander on
through metaphoric avenues
the dazzling porticoes

It is time
this poem awaits

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