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and feathers fell from the magnolia tree

A small dog
nips
the morning silence
and the street
comes alive
with hands

purpose
breaks
into fever,
something
to do, somewhere
to go,
hurry, hurry the day

I get despondent,
now and then,
this isn't the world
I wanted to imagine,
my sophistry
melding an ancient art

last night
we were Buddhas
trying on each other's masks,
we plunged into ecstasy,
we hovered like angels
above our bodies

and feathers fell from the magnolia tree.

~A

Editing stage: 

Comments

What is the symbol of the magnolia tree, how I love them,
had a pink one over our front door when I was 3-14yrs old.
So lovely a shape.

Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Anna, your writing has always been extraordinary, I am sensing a change, subtle, but I think it runs consistently, since I was last a part of neo. I guess that's a good thing.

I am struck, admirably by your skilful last lines. Always you command poetic impact.

These lines are as perfect as I could wish to read...
last night
we were Buddhas
trying on each other's masks,
we plunged into ecstasy,
we hovered like angels
above our bodies

and feathers fell from the magnolia tree.

Wonderful, sorry, I have no criticism to offer at all!

Cheers
Anni

My dear friend always told me "Water the seeds of joy first"

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