Thursday, June 7, 2012

On the Purple Ridge

Sits sight of eyes
Wondering how long
How much until
The glass in the left hand will turn dry
And the flood in the mind subside.

Feelings colder than the frost
Around the door’s framing,
The view contains all the insight this man can see.
He hopes emptying a bottle
Will get him over that mountain
So the sun has yet to set.

A heart seeking courage just needs
Some fuel to get there,
An award of triumph awaiting
The man who can keep his
Hands straight and his eye on the goal,
Even if through glass.

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