Fort KnoX

 
you are more than

copper

–policing the heavens

you are gold…

conduit of the Son

Golden Boy,

and precious.

I am more than

silver

–lines in the cloud

I am Sun

silvered, which warmth

inside melts

edges

and complements

Silver Girl,

(I am)

yet tarnished.

Neglected and uncared for and

dulling in every sense.

Come, now,

Golden Boy

lose the club

(at waste)

forget the been,

and is, and

create what can be!

(forge ahead!)

forget brass rings

(piercing knows)

and I’ll forget plate

(imitation fill)

You and I

are

precious

. . .

sought after and treasured

–by most–

Let’s be molten

together.

(a memory lane poem–like all my recent posts have been–as I dig through reams of the written to form an amalgam of thoughts spanning decades.)