Quicksilver


Always on the move,

darting here, dipping there,

blowing hot, blowing cold,

mercurial as quicksilver

dispensing woe or joy

in clouds of dust,

fairy dust,

falling like starlight

and landing

somewhere.

I’m just the messenger,

she said,

I don’t get to choose,

gold or silver,

coal or shale,

it’s just dust

blowing in the wind

and landing

somewhere,

I don’t get to choose,

she said.

But I wonder.


https://freeverserevolution.files.wordpress.com/2021/06/fvr-issue-ii-summer-2021.pdf


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