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Forms and Syllables
Masters and Forms
Review by Claude
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The lion of March / storming out of April’s room / roaring as it leaves.
Brain bewildered by / blustery blowing bending / branches, buds, blossoms.
Hatred, zealotry / provide new places daily / to send all our grief.
The morning paper / unread as eyelids protest / returning to sleep.
Climate change / brings flowers ahead / of schedule.
Tortured mockingbird / sang that one great song we loved / more than all others.
Friendship’s potential / stolen from me and others / by the thief of days.
Sun painting shadows / freshly-prepared white canvas / of new-fallen snow.
The R, I, P keys / faded from typing tribute / to those who have died.
The sixty-nine club / gained two great members this week / unfortunately.
Awoke to sad news / the first day in many years / bereft of Stardust.
The New Year arrives / old demons darken doorways / blocking ways to change.
Artificial pause / a normal day, repurposed / to contemplate self.
Luminaries lit / celebrate end, beginning / circle of life, time.
I know this pain well / of being pulled out of dreams / to reality.
Fantastic machines / hallucination engines / dream generators.
The weather forecast / an ill wind blowing, cloudy / a chance of bullets.
Words, guns, religions / in the hands of bad people / terrible weapons.
Sunrise viewed / through the ice crystals / on my car.
Swan song of the leaves / a final act of beauty / then fall to their death.
Yet another day / joins its predecessors to / live in infamy.
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