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sweetbriarpoet
Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.
 
Sixty-First Entry
Poetry:  One

We wondered the time of classical music, of books, and little trinkets that fell together in a box.
They made tinkling noises, like broken glass and I felt lost within myself.
All of this stuff, I said, when I had nothing, and a little velvet purse in the box fell open to reveal a gaping black hole.
Don't worry, you'll be safe, so I picked it all up and threw it in the back of the rusty car. We're heading to a new home.
On the way, there were violins on the radio but someone reached over me to turn them off.
We came upon the ivy and it seemed less frightening since dusk had passed.


Poetry: Two

A cross above the head of my bed
and slanted sideways to the right
eased my horror in the night.
A token to the my mother's dead dreams.

It was a focus, a point to watch
a familiar symbol of peace and hope.
a symbol far too profound to help me cope.
But it nevertheless became the arch of my support.

So when she forgot that I was there
I was happy to have it near
to have it safely a part of here
though not anymore a part of her.


 
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