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Come To Me

A collection of my poetry, usually written for the first time here. Love, confusion, and apologies are assembled here - all of those feelings that sometimes need to get out.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Shepherd

The peaceful shepherd
dozing against warm
wood of a pasture
fence.

Where sheep live like kings
in a peasant's square
protected and fed
and led.

The shepherd's grand----
cries weakly - but why
are you not in the
world, living?

A crinoline reply
floats above the sweetgrass.
Where would I
be without them?
Posted by FoShnazzle at 11:51 PM

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