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Absent Anthems (Poem)
Absent Anthems (Poem)
6:23 in the morning and I'm drawing circles on the frost bitten window. An emerald
flavored photon stirs my lens. It makes me smile and while returning to biting my nails,
shivering, and waiting for my blood to rest when the ice breaks into pieces, shattering the
nurse my vessel laid rest upon. I rolled up the windows just in time to beat the water from
rushing in. While the car sank deeper and deeper I manage to salvage a station, from the
nineteen fifties. Beyond the Sea was the synchronous track, took me far ahead to a time
in my past. And I awaken pre-REM and caught between two worlds – held together by an
umbilical cord.
1:51 behind the sun and I should have left well enough alone. I awoke in a foggy dessert
surrounded by cattails and now I'm off gathering stones. Formulating formulas and
solving riddles by taste testing colors, I'm looking for the ancient home. I crawl to the
river on my knees, pan my hands for a drink, and catch a glimpse of pure intention in the
form of an origami vessel. The pedals are vibrant, orange and yellow, the taste of ashes,
the smell of rain, adds life to my memory while reminding me that we're not all the same.
By David Powers
January 4th, 2008