From Her Hand) It(Dripped
J
James McLain
0
Altın Yaprak
Haughty from golden eye of pan
the silver drips from hand
in sand to sink.
Inspection grain was that of purse
held nought but golden slippers
shades of purple kings.
Pastels blended hues of morning night
of colored sand the
fishes knew.
Song of Solomon buried there in sands
of legends time the
centaur fled.
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