Artichokes like Comets
Stories and Light
I know a man who couldn’t
Escape sadness, and lost his
Older years, looking for something
I know a man traveling aimlessly,
Yet going in the wrong direction.
Trips in circles, each smaller than the
Others, until they disappear.
I wish I had something else to
Offer you, other than stories
And the light of an old brass
I knew those who carried the voices
Of their tribes.
I too carry voices, and a dim
I keep a brass lamp and my stories,
To keep you warm.
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