Borderline

sunset gold, low-slant
fires distant spark
starting seaside, spreading
beacon point to point to point—
behind my eyes

why did I glory in tales
of blood, fighting
remembered sword-grip
and how it shamed loving touch
of earth lifted, sifted
and firmed again

no more. I close the border of that land
with this drawing in, hurrying on
of cloak, hood, fences, gates
tamping down the pulse, the heart-fire
watching the thread of smoke lift
swirl, vanish

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Sanctuary

Sharing this post from last November for International Day of Peace.

Graceful Press Poetry

A long year of watching
strife. (Earth, ocean, sun
sky, the very air above
suffers.) So this means—?
Come. Could we love?
Breathe peace song
in every language?

I was feeling pretty blank this morning, so I pulled out my mystical Magnetic Poetry set. Here’s what I found in the words. PAD Chapbook Challenge Day 18 prompt is “an idea poem.”

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