Love and Words

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ghazal #2

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The earth of this city

lifts each step and then step falls,

the pulse soft story untold

of the womb where lies my soul.


Cobbles hollow to basin tears,

days no longer but still heard,

memories of streets unfold, 

forgotten maps of where lies my soul.


The sky watches wary

child land grieving,

small plots hide such valuable gold - 

the soil where lies my soul.


Untilled and seeded

by what has been and blown,

deep is the cover till wind comes bold,

threatening to reveal where lies my soul.


Rock holds soil,

soil bears rock,

rain feeds new growth from old

pooling in gullies where lies my soul.


And I, Cassandra, garden with care

for roots run deep

and are not always

seen clear.

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decagon          poetry

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