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Good Hearts

Some hearts that are dying, live

they gambol through painted foliage

in hobbled shoes


They spread good cheer like confetti

touching everything with gentle creaks

all spangled in marshmallow stars


They belong to rose petal societies

shake their sticks at moon-glint stones

dress their wounds with quilted petticoats


They hide their darkness in Wedgwood sugar bowls

keep blue and pink saccharine in antique pill boxes

their pain concealed like bright babushkas


They smile at babies, distribute candies

compose their own rhyming get well cards

write glowing reviews in elegant copperplate


And when they go we still see them

in fragile spider webs and fairy tales

in rainbow oil slicks on frosty dawns

in cemeteries of crocuses and dew

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© Johnmichael Simon



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