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Click hereWe let loose the lavender mice.
All except one had dried from the dye.
Mortimer asked me to leave watercolors
that lightly stepped down our hall.
"This way," he leaned in,
like a wind-nudged summer stalk,
"we can track them through the house."
A simple statement,
yet valid in its violet way.
That night, by amber light,
Mortimer's lantern led us
past cracked slices
of slumber rooms. Then yonder
to the end, to the hole in the wall.
"What I think," he pursed his lips
and teetered on some unseen wire,
"is that I need to visit the shed."
Mortimer had answers.
I shut the doors
to dull the gleeful destruction.
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copyright d. dixon
7.24.05
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You spark the imagination - regardless that I'm certain my imaginings don't catch up to yours - with lines like "We let loose the lavender mice," "yet valid in its violet way," "to the end, to the hole in the wall," and "to dull the gleeful destruction." Thank you for the morning spark.
I haven't a fucking clue what you're talking about, I still like your work. What that says is that your language, your musicality, and your imagery is as important as your actual point or narrative purpose. That's a real testament to your skills. Again, of course, nice work.
I have no idea why or what through some parts of this. I don't want it explained. The last line is enough for it to be what I want it to be. And now I will go on my violet way.
Lovely work.
This poem has been selected for listing in Wednesday's New Poems Review.<br>
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I love your cryptic poem-stories. I love your eerie entertaining mind. Love the poem and this is just a comment to tell you that because, ( the comment) is worthless in any other way. ;)
NJ