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Stage Fate

by Roger J Kenyon

All it took was three rythmic taps On a ride cymbal to morph me to mush Part of a plush sheen from voices Disparite but aligned to a commom aim Like a witch's finger slim that drew Me through a blaze I wanted to walk Through to become part of a tonal alloy A crucible formed to a concave cooled I sit inert until visited by lathed wood To perhaps lure kindred spirits to back Up beauty and to evolve to a passion I craved and needed to become part of.

03/24/2012

Author's Note: There is something about the sheen and tone of a ride cymbal... .

Posted on 03/24/2012
Copyright © 2024 Roger J Kenyon

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/27/12 at 01:12 AM

Wonderfully creative in its language and descriptions.

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