Wednesday, January 7, 2015

6230. NO PROTECTION AGAINST THIS HEARTBREAK

NO PROTECTION AGAINST 
THIS HEARTBREAK
There is a kind of horse that bears 
burdens, and a kind that runs swift.
I am now  -  somehow  -  both. 
My own Russian riddle is enigma, and
an enigma without ending or solace.
My strange filigree is an offshoot  -  
the wayward branch, grown crooked. 
No protection, non, exists as I limp
back into this broken-heart easel.
once more to paint in my place.

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