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Pure Magic

poetry is ; pulling a velveteen rabbit out of a moth-eaten top hat to the oohs and awws of a wide-eyed children’s crowd words flowing faster than tongues wagging from pursed dry lips begging for a bit of water poetry is; flowering in the middle of some nameless desert’s shimmering heat precisely at high noon the sparkle of moisture an illusion pure without any slight of human hand poetry is pure magic word imagery without compare

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things