Hidden, in a secret place – a space
kept between himself and an unknowing public.
“T’s and “I”s crossed and dotted, lined and spotted,
a melodic melange of hope, The next
after a Number 9 dream. Living is easy

with eyes closed, he came to reclaim his muse, unused
for thirty-three years. Rekindled by an old sound,
sounding brand new – a rejuvenation
by proclamation. Peace is fine in its time.
“I found mine in the arms of mother’s love”.

All charms washed away by a disenfranchised
loner when he should have just left well enough alone.
Going home to set the tale right; his vision is clear.
It is here where the secret is kept amidst lines
and specks, a song to be heard – every word!

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 4 – _____ Sheet


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