In The Edit
Once you were so high up on the editBut oh then slipped and hit send
Can never remember quite who said it
Or who was there in the end
Like a wraith sent from haunted heavens
A familiar ghost dressed in couture thrift store threads
With beaded bags filled with the gift of eternal Light
Just when you guessed never to see her in this living world
She winks a silken wind blown web and says, "well, you might"
Say maybe so, even tho' it's hard to tell with someone like me
You know ?
Or who was there in the end
Can never remember quite who said it
But oh then slipped and hit send
Once you are so high up in the edit
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 1017 times
Written on 2019-03-16 at 23:06
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