How Courage Looks


only wise eyes fit over

a child’s smile

festive in the gleaming

of a silent twinkle

on a slim precipice

staring into the depths

daring the dark


folly loosed at long last finding

freedom for an old soul

surrounding a gentle gaze with storm

twisting round tranquility with scorn

yet still sitting in the middle

dandelion in hand


undiluted eyes in dilapidated glass

whose face remains


and brow free of frivolous fevers

fretting in the fires of starched imposters


jasper, amber, sapphire sublime

or darker hues for shaded views

with blue-trimmed shutters

drawn and drawing


drowning a world without promise of buoyancy

these pools reign in poverty

before barns of grief


birthing stars of clarity like the dawn

reaching through windows for new rays


ever vigilant, ever vibrant






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