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A painting a hieroglyphic an epitaph
I painted the trees as birds in flight
Wings pressed against the hour glass
The bird clock stirring
Under the television light
And the ' green bush' was a green bush
And the bush was a bright ray of light burning
I held my passion
Claimed a name for naming
Untrod, unfelt, half seen territory
Making walls my strangers
Making mountains
Captains of my heart
Heroic summits
Left clouds dreamers
And streamers trailing dove tail
Old engravings
Unknown Heiroglyphics from another life
There admist the whirling pools and crackling laughs
The sun and ease of day break
Were the broken, unspoken stones lye amidst the,
Epitaphs!
yvette m smith poet of uk
july 09
poem
by
Yvette Smith
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