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A Poet Who Has Forgotten The Word

By Abigail Leigh



2 a.m. and sheep run rampant,

baaa baaa baaadgering sleep and soundness,

no order

to their madness.


Off I go: wool-gathering

...97, 98, 99

coxed to corral each

stray

musing into line


after line of fluffed-up poetry—

a wolfish pursuit, I soon find

(culling meaning from meanderings)

as still rest

eschews

my herding mind.


For I am no shepherd of well-bred

thoughts, when

(fleeced by their own crimson ambition)

this poet, instead, has been

lead

to forget


the very Word which, once counted

sincere, is said would shear

away this wool from sightless

eyes:

alas, the lamb that is lost is I.



 

Abigail Leigh is a 28 year-old harpist and poet. As a self-proclaimed paradox, both a creative and analytical being, she draws inspiration from life's dichotomies: the belief that light and darkness, growth and decay, joy and sorrow--travel in tandem. Every season has a story to tell, and she writes because she is committed to unveiling the truth from learned experiences. Her poetry has been published in Darling Magazine, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Equinox Biannual Journal, Clayjar Review, Foreshadow Magazine, Kosmeo Magazine, Yours Poetically, and Wingless Dreamer Publisher (winner of their winter poetry contest and their poetry on life contest).

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