Cross
On my chest this Friday afternoon,the elegant small signature
of violent death
swings as I walk, gold tapping my
deep heart, telling me I was there.
(I did not mean to do it; I did
not know.) I slump under the weight
of it; my pulse
echoes the beat of hammers.
--Luci Shaw
posted by whistler @ 4/05/2007 12:14:00 p.m.
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