Poetry Love Crown . . . The Vagabond

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Photo by Federica Erra

” How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young , compassionate with the aged , sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and strong . Because someday in your life you will have been all of those “. – George Washington Carver

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The Vagabond

the vagabond shyly knocking on my mind

stands crooked on the horizon line

brutal mystery mists behind

this back-up man sings this time .

the vagabond , his dog shakes with fears

held tight by heavy twine and tears .

I see the pain , a bloody knife

a wound of odor dims their life .

This grizzly starless night

mute upon the earth of light .

his face still pounding on my mind

ruin is beautiful is only kind .

no judgements , no math , no rules

leave that for the preacher over the hill

the vagabond blurring dirty cold rain to kill

diluted by a song only warms the chill .

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” In the forest of illusions . . . the only reliable compass is ones soul .”  –  Enza Currenti

10 thoughts on “Poetry Love Crown . . . The Vagabond

  1. A navigator needs no compass to find their way across the seasons, through currents, and within time. Stories shared and tales both spoken, the weathered out beyond all the curtains that tap to their tunes of illusion. What the poem had me meandering through at the time. Some voice you have in those words above…

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