

©
All poems and stories © 1988, 1989, 1990, 1998 by Advaeta. All rights reserved.
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Beach
Naked child does cartwheels
Brown hair sweeping hot sand
Ah if the sun had revolved
When I was eight
Doors
When the lame tiger sinks down among the islands,
And the bluebird shatters on her cage's silver bars,
Who will there be to break upon the silence,
And cry that there are doors, and doors, and doors?
And what if our feet are free but our brains are tied,
If an angel band is beaten in the alley,
If the morning star just exhaled once and died,
And an injured saint looks backwards down the valley?
Now sunflowers burst like rockets in the room,
Wild children pull the blindfolds from our eyes,
In the sullen air salvation's raindrops loom,
And the milk of kindness showers from the skies.
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