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the dawn rises over the forest,
the dawn promised to wait for us
in the eyes of the eagle the drums smile
and dance
eagles jump up, take turns around the lake,
one round, the second  round ... fourth,
the drums hit the sky,
feathers fall off,
smoothly
are falling, and
are kissing the grass, and
are kissing the earth
when the eagles come down and down
with the beak  are catching the fish
from below waters
the thundering sounds swear the waterfall to be combed by the sun
when drummers smolder all year round
like the star of the night,
smolder like coal extracted from the hearts of ojibwe people
September hues of school day smiles and bran new leather bags
creative minds as young as baby figs with eager hearts of lore  
My days were full with mischief makers and bragging scalawags
but as the evening fell it was dad and I and paper planes galore

Lined creased papers pressed against father's smoky fingers strong
a wide tooth grin that said it all, while folding them in Ludwig style
Symmetrical wings shaped at the edge to fly through standby throng      
inside a backyard airfield 16x24, .. we launched then bridged a mile

One was  shaped like a prayer mantis one was fashioned like a jet  
homework waited as we glided through a glide-path then a runway
Aerobatic landings that were much more thrilling, then a Lego set
oh the wanders of those days when we both knew, how to play.  

August 13, 2022
A night fairy fantasy with a magic blue umbrella
levitating into a phantasmal world of silver dragon flies  
She is a Fairy Damsel with 24 gold petals  
Dancing to the spellbinding tune of a Pixie brigadoon
she is unaffected by time in this far remote little place,
where everything is left behind, even reality.  
Enter into the Sanctuary of  pure Make Believe ...
Just like Mary Poppins who was wind blown from the east
you too can be transported into a time and place
where magic is sprinkled with elective grace ;
A six inch Fairy with a whimsical pose
is calling out to  you o'er a flaming cauldron,  
Two dragonfly wings and a touch of fairy dust
here take a sip or two, if you find it too strong we can always adjust.
The soliloquies
born of tears,
spoke of Loneliness.
The Plays the Thing.
The Long and Winding Road.  

Hamlet was not crazy,
as some think,

he was alone.

Lady Macbeth scraped blood
from her hands in a
castle of lonely rooms.

McCullers loneliness
was a companion.  

Teasdale wrote of the sea's
lonely foam.

Lear,  alone,  held Cordelia
to the
cold and empty sky.

I know Alone.   It is a wind
just past my skin.   Your hand
on my face is a reflection.   My
skin is uninterrupted by the
conversation of your fingers.

Alone is the road
we travel.  

Evermore.


Caroline Shank
8.16.2022
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