For my Rhyming Friend Shasta

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(although I haven’t written rhyming poems in years, I thought “Well why the hell not?”  So I wrote one yesterday, and now I’m writing another especially for the person who reminded me of how useful structure can be.)

I drink from a black rose petal chalice

each morning; silver champagne.

Each morning I breathe in the mist

left by a midnight rain.

Each morning I listen to the song

of each tiny yet beautiful bird.

Each morning the sing me a new story

that no ears on earth have heard.

They sing to me of laughter.

They sing to me of despair.

I always sing them the same song

a sorrow that’s always been there.

I tried to sing them laughter,

but I sang instead of a mask

I sing to them of the lie I wear

to complete my daily tasks.

Each morning I drink from a black rose petal chalice.

Silver Champagne that is almost gone.

Each morning I sing them the same sad verses.

Each morning they sing me a new song.

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