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  Lynn Strongin
   
     

 
        A windmill! . . .only if the rope is
                secure which holds the lead blade to the anchor
Scott Cairns “The Holy Ghost” in “Compass of Affection”
 
Vincent,
 
Is blade held to anchor? My soul to my body?
 
Absinthe used to work
no more for me.
 
Now hard weeks of tunneling thru rubble of affection
breaking marble
& the kitchen clatters down over the phone.
 
When I wrote of your craziness at the veneer light of the South.
 
Yet
I too have gone thru the arches of Arles
St Remy
 
with you
I vow not to take my hand               from yours thru halls of thel asylum
till orchard blooms, your sunflowers, Vincent,
        redolent of olive oil
        benediction wine        to rinse misery, dark scenes at the end of a lifetime.
 

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