Friday Poem

TO THINK YOUR MIND A BOX

There is no recipe for fog.

Sure, some people dream about gentle sorrows, imagined wounds and healing scars,
But they are mere garnish,
an overcast sky searching for its bleak but sandy coast.

No, this legion —
the weathered breastplate, dulled sword, matted hair and foul breath —
was once turned away,

but was not turned away today,
not on this path.

Not on this furious path.

–Dedicated to Robin Williams (1951-2014)

 

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