Best Poem of Frank Davis, Sr.

Mystical Ride
Huge blue-white
had fallen
filling the woods
with knee-high hush;
while black velvet heavens
were increasingly raining down
Winter magic. Time existed
only in the steady clopping
of Anderson's big red mare
effortlessly pulling
our vintage silver sleigh.
Beneath thick . . .
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Dispersing The Fog
According to deceptive establishments
everywhere, you must stay engaged
to remain relevant. Yet, unless- -at some
point and for a sufficient amount of time- -
you do not disengage, you can never
clearly see enough of the truth
to move towards freedom. . . .
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