I slept under a sturgeon moon
the breeze came swiftly
and with it
the dream I have
so often, the one that guides
an ever-changing map
of a future trampled by fate
a blanket of stars and music
only I will hear
________________________________________________________________________
Poetry and Art by Barry Burgess
Published in Open Arts Forum on .
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Standing at the sink in utter bewilderment,
"What words should I use and where should I put them? Huh?"
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