Indicted



The wind drags silken wisps across clean skies and I,
like so many before me, make
no protest, no outcry; a
perfect image of complicity, I clear
the path for days to come, I hold a cup
filled with the bitter dregs of
broken dreams and stormy sky.

I tweak clothespins to loosen the tattered garments of dreams we
dare dream, of journeys to take and songs to sing – of books we have
yet to read — and what of our unwritten stories, you say? Tales extended
over time and bound by spiderwebs between the
fractures in our hearts? We live on the edge
of what could be, what is, what was, of
fears, of fantasies, of our imperfect expectation
that united, we can stand by
and watch our brothers and sisters die, merely
for the hopeful crime of living.

The wind drags silken wisps across clean skies and I,
like so many around me, wear
ignorant disregard -- my
fear hidden beneath a veil.

Another try at a golden shovel poem, in which the would-be poet chooses a line or lines from another poem and uses each word as an end word in the new poem. The end words must be kept in order, and the original poet is credited.  I selected the following three lines from Girlfriends, by Elizabeth Woody, Oregon’s 2017 Poet Laureate:
Stanza 2/Line 2: I make a clear cup of sky
Stanza 4/Lines 2-3:  We have extended the edge of expectation by merely living
Stanza 6/Line 4: I wear my veil.

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