druidcraft
hands raised
in worship.
legs splayed
to do the same.
there are pieces
of you missing
and you are
pulled in twain.
your voice is gone.
your light
has dimmed.
your name
has been
replaced.
the smile
splits wide
at what
he’s done
and tears
stream
down
my face.
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You poem begins strong–it accelerates–keeps going–and then falls down your face as a vivid image…