Broken castanets
Died today
pity it's a fine day
heard you tapping with your shoes
rhythm to my living blues
couldn't wait till Spring
when flowers bloom
not much room
Autumn leaves scatter near
withered petals kill my fears
must be Fall
your fall
Heard you tapping with your shoes
rhythm to my living blues
autumn leaves
withered petals
tears from sky
a slippery slide
cracked head open
on sharp headstone
in pool of blood
swimming above
Oh painful death
Me? I'm sleeping in dirt
it doesn't hurt
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Wow!
Didn't expect where you were taking this. Never saw it coming. Then suddenly - it was there! Right in my face. I like how you wrote this.
interesting poem and interesting imagery...
oldaspirationsneverdie...7
Something odd, about this, the mixed images: The dancer and the storyteller
seem to pull everyting together in a unified whole! Enjoyed this poem as
it is so rich in uniqueness.