Thursday, June 5, 2025

poem

 The Hanged Man

Strange suited playing cards

Scattered like leaves across the land 


Jack of stars

Queen of stones

Ace of scythes 


Someone is searching 

For the rest of the deck

So the game can resume again


No one remembers the rules 


The card you’re holding has been 

Passed on for generations

Hold it up to the light 

To read your fate. 

Wait your turn

But don't play it too late


6/5/25

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