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Poetry by Ernest Williamson III 




© 2005 Ernest Williamson III




I saw gold violins
descending from granite black skies
the way of the wind
was in constant flux
women were giving birth on bridges on highways
some were hovering above the Mississippi river
laughing at the drowning unbelievers
surrounding them I saw the moon
glide with stealth and ghost-like confidence
alternating in color
pink, white, then gray
yet I didn't see my peace
my missing rib
my systemic buckle
known for holding me
in involuntary bliss
and placid stillness
at night
and so my dream
was of minor mentioning
lest I ever imagine imagination
without creativity







All work is copyrighted property of Ernest Williamson III.



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