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Pebble Pond

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Foreign Hands, Distant Faces

White hands from the ground
Singing soft, silent, imperialism
Thrust up by white faces
Buried beneath the earth
With mouths all agape, waiting
For the rain of milk and honey.

White faces with red teeth,
Black eyes and black sweat
Stained sullen by transgressions,
Washed clean by false tears
Shed in theatrical grief.
Posted by Zack at 11:31 PM
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  • ▼  2009 (5)
    • ▼  May (1)
      • Foreign Hands, Distant Faces
    • ►  April (1)
      • Highway Willow-Wisp
    • ►  March (1)
      • Old Word Ice and Fire
    • ►  January (2)
      • Mirrors, Mirrors
      • The Fingers of Old Men
  • ►  2008 (8)
    • ►  November (1)
      • Looking Ahead
    • ►  September (2)
      • Old Engine
      • From Winter, Spring
    • ►  July (1)
      • Summer Day
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      • Raven Rose
    • ►  January (3)
      • Ivory arms and ivory skin wrapped womb-like in aub...
      • Timely Mirror
      • Twelve tones of music lie idle in my ears, and swe...
  • ►  2007 (8)
    • ►  December (2)
      • Lamp Lit Branches
      • Littany of the premed
    • ►  November (3)
      • Snowy Maple
      • First Snow
      • Stones in the moonlight Glistening wet, we both wa...
    • ►  October (3)
      • On the Shores of Dreams
      • Autumn Leaves
      • The begining

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Zack
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