poem: SurrealistsA Poem by Marie Anzalone
My friend, if we collectively had any courage,
we would both be surrealists
and offer the world, flat upon our palms,
the last vestiges of deferred dreams;
a sample of how unendurable pain looks
from inside a tunnel with one window
and the joy of bounding dogs, unmasked
from the perspective of a wafting scent.
Through us should others renew their faith
in miracles and demons both
We would walk tall
sure in the knowledge
that our messengers always tell us the truth
about such things.
Alas we are but human-
and thus, still are learning
how to reflect that which is merely
placed in front of us
instead of what we see
when our eyes are shut.
© 2013 Marie Anzalone
Shelved in 3 LibrariesAdded on May 21, 2012
Last Updated on April 5, 2013
A Pilgrimage in Epistles
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