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Pockets of feeling by Kervin Phiri

Kervin Phiri | January 9th, 2018 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

What I hold dear my hands wipe away
Trinkets that cascade from a healing vial
They mend I trust when called upon
An underground spring that’s always pure
Ever so silent surging it raws
Arousing interest to the present observer
Regal, you might think, attained by a few
In this case, we are all sovereign when one
Heads the song of an emotive rhythm
A beat that comes from beneath, entwined with your soul.

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