Monday, September 05, 2005

Sideshow #3

The small illusions
I conjure are harmless –
a shiny word
plucked from the air,
an omelet of rhymes
stirred up in my hat.

Applause and pennies
thrown from the hands
of children, claim
this puppet show,
where metaphor
trades jabs with meaning.

Please go next door
for the dancing
girls, gents.

Stephen Brooke ©2005

I think this is number three...the first two are in Pieces of the Moon...someday I'll go through this stack of unedited poems and make sure!

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