Best Poem of M.J. Dura

Water Crest Cursive
The man stood at the edge of sea,
Screaming out loud
To an audience of waves;
None too committed to paying attention.
His world had been taken over by TV.
His freedom only to be found in the index of his child's school book.
He cried often.
At the edge of the water he lay crying.
At the edge . . .
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My Dream Of Birds
Bird of prey, where are you going?
To the other side of the day are you soaring?
Bring me back a piece of life.
A cup of gold of which I may peer at
And see oneself.
Can I crawl upon your unbroken wing?
Fly away never to be seen?
Crawl into the cracks of the unscathed air
And sing to you like . . .
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