Crystals gleam before the night
she awakes before the others
a cave lit in both directions
Putting hands on hard stone walls
she walks beyond their last erasure
midnight of vision or dawn of sleep
She’ll walk 50 feet past the erasure
in and out again by the force of fire
surprised when the subject is the same
They call her simple they say she’s crazy
which hardly concerns her principles
toting the bag with the colors she needs.
© 2014 Rob Schackne
toting the bag with the colors she needs.
© 2014 Rob Schackne
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