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Cracks

A follow-up to "Barefoot," this poem was written 14 years later, inspired by a sculpture by Paige Bradley (see photo). There’s a crack in her facade of button downs and gum-soled shoes, of lanyards and a sleeked back pony, of mortgages and the over-due. She hides the crack to please them all keeping step with those around her, wearing each responsibility like a leaden badge of honor. While morning follows night again an endless wheel of light and dark of dance routines and soccer games and meeting playmates in the park. But there are lights that escape from the heart beating bold from the crown upon her head from eyes of green flecked with gold. Frantic now to fix the cracks she struggles to conform, smoothing plaster to form a cast aching to belong. But morning follows night again an endless wheel of light and dark she contemplates what life might be if she released her spark. There’s a beam blazoning through her now illuminating her path She glows in the familiar, in moonlight and its aftermath. Each step brings her to herself and the life she had denied, In freedom she is radiant exposing what’s inside. When morning follows night this day in rebirth she is bright, the plaster dust drifts to the floor leaving nothing but light. November 7, 2017


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