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still the dreamers

by Cole Atkinson

if only we were still the dreamers,
still those solstice-eyed martyrs,
those who stretched out whispered sun-hands
(with fingernails left to grow)
and took the lion's mane
in a silk fist.

images of a dancing sunrise
kissing and being kissed
on a not-so-cloudy morning--
they linger in paintings
and black-and-white photographs
but we left them to curl
and brown with age
until all that remained
was a blank time-cursed canvas.

we with nothing to lose,
if only we could be--
still the dreamers.

04/27/2011

Posted on 05/01/2011
Copyright © 2024 Cole Atkinson

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