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Chicagoetry: LoonLoon Death lurks, not looming. Is a boon, my beloved, The same loon In the shimmering gloam. In a cornfield, (Each a crucifix Death lurks Slave to fate, Death lurks in tree shade On the trains, in Life is a lark, English pub signs, Death works around Best lean into And looning. Death lurks. Breath is the burst of it, A stark moonbeam Though it miss the loon, And hit the lark. Breath is king. - J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress. - More Tindall: * Chicagoetry: The Book * Ready To Rock: The Music * Kindled Tindall: The Novel * The Viral Video: The Match Game Dance Posted on April 11, 2016 |
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