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| Those Few Everyone is born unique But many die as clones Lost of promise Grace endowed With joy bereft a drone Everyone His image shared Till falling from the Light Beatific Vision lost Alone — to face the night (The First Book Of Prayers: February, 2026) From The Maelstrom We are separate We are distant We are many — we are one From the cities From the country From the maelstrom — we become (Dreamsleep: February, 2026) So Close And Yet ... Feasting on the lettered law Abandoning its spirit Crippled by the sanctioned rules Afar — when we’re so near it (Dreamsleep: February, 2026) In The Offing Poetry is the weight training of writers Building new couplets each musing reweighted Lactic endowment new pain in old phrasings Success in the offing — as writing expands (Dreamsleep: February, 2026) |