Thought waivers,
bends the blister of
spoken tongue
as harsh domains
fire yesterday's
ember.
Splendor exhausts
earth-scent
as it conspires with
the cost of cadence.
Genes remain
entombed in
soiled blood
while heritage
resounds with
an echoed
shriek.
I am no better
than Mother's
yesterday.
Pamela A. Lamppa
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