TEARS
The scars on the shepherd’s hand
Are wet from his tears.
The porcelain figure was shaped
To cry.
The tears are round
That drop from his eyes.
His tears are perfect spheres,
But different from my tears
That become flat as they fall--
First flatness, then amorphous
On the uplift of a cheek.
Duane Locke
Posted over on SF Salvo
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