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Judge Santiago Burdon



Long wispy Cirrus fingers scratching the sky As though Angels were keying the paint On God's celestial blue Buick.


LONELINESS Tastes equivalent to a recurring nightmare Sounds as though tomorrow will never arrive Looks exactly like its identical opposite Feels equal to an unkept secret Smells the same as an unanswered prayer It leaves me senseless.


DANCER It wasn't the motion in her dance that moved me. It was the stillness it choreographed in my soul.


Whether or not the Weather We once loved under clear skies together Later we grew, although toward different Suns Now it rains all the time.

More of Judge Santiago Burdon including his bio, interviews by various publishers, and poetry, can be read on his website at: Judge Santiago Burdon


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