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...... Poetry


The one who can never be as free as his liberty
walks in and claims as his
that which he will not give
does not think to honor
in passing


takes Beauty from the beautiful


paints private shrines with once-lovely memories


grinds from captives of desire and vain ideals
pigments mixed in slow
consuming
isolation.




© 1967, Sugarpie Rabbit | and in end of a spring © 1971, Sugarpie Rabbit
© 20 April 2007, Sugarpie Rabbit
In the Face of Love: The Book of the Beloved
SPR © 14 February 2007, Sugarpie Rabbit