Lonnie Hicks, click here
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How dull is the knife wielded in passion's ire
which lands the hurtful blow
where the bad time amplifies
and wounds grow.
sometimes sting the most
tiny cuts often swell over the years
if we allow them so
their very smallness can irk us so;
we see they were avoidable
that blade slices thin slivers
which in time became infected.
A cannon wound more understandable
but lover's cold eye
lands blows unshielded
and that blade's edge
over quivering heart tissue.
But wiser now I see small lesions
old and new
I now must surrender
and vanquish them
for they have Pride's Gauze
and a too long memory for bandages.
Let me give them up
heroically as I do
for they are wounds of mine and wasted time
and mask that who
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|Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
|Your pen is very busy Lonnie. I am slow to keep up! I can't say it any better than Christine. You are wise to recognize that the little things do swell, like an infection. And the reality is, they were nothing to start with. Time can be a marvelous de-magnifying glass.Patrick|
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|These are enduring lines of magnificently emotional poetry!