The eternal pain:
joints grating,
silent pockets,
prayers unanswered,
shoe souls instead of rockets—
is Orpheus the only exit?
Next it’s the music
played into the beat;
retreat into the white haze,
the days of smoke-induced dimension
in-tensions which filter eyes as roses
so on your sitar slay the long song, man . . . .

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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