Donald Traxler's Poetry
Saturday, November 25, 2017
The Magical Realism of Sister Dorothy
I lost my life
to a yellow knife,
I lost my heart
to a poison dart.
I found my soul
in an antique bowl.
I grew and grew
'til I became you.
No life is more wild
than that of a child.
We are alone,
but we are one.
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