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Oracle

by Anne Di Baguette


my fingers are useless gnarled talons


they curl cramped and clumsy


gripping pen like a deadwood perch, yet


this caged bird has no song


 




it would be better to throw it aside


loosen my grip, to bruised knees


let fall this futile pursuit, bare these


starving claws like daggers, with them


scratch meaning deep into dry earth


 




and then sobbing, slash and scrawl


scrape hieroglyphics into granite, and


with bleeding fingers I would paint


tears streaming, I would paint a future


with my blood and my hands I would paint


a future my heart can never speak of

03/14/2003

Posted on 12/01/2017
Copyright © 2022 Anne Di Baguette

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