Letters to Euturpe – Three Strange Poems

Circular rings of hope
Falling crystals
Tumbling wise
Sparkling bright
Inside our eyes

Not able?
No table?
El baton?
Elb Aton?
El ba ton?
Who knows?

Not like you.
Not like me.
It isn’t her,
Him, or she.
It is something
Some thing
All so
Brand new
You’ve never
Seen it
Ever before.
Until suddenly
You do.




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