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Passing to the Right
© August 24, 1999, Roy Stucky

I'd tell a worthy story
But the words would speak of me.
I'd wish it spoke of glory
But that's not the man you'd see.

I'd like to keep it lucid
But that's not the way I am.
My wistful answer's stammer
Departs from best laid plans.
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Again the longing stirs.
My working focus blurs.
I grasp the cosmos whole
But still can't see my soul.

I've learned a lot from books
That told me where to look.
The gypsy leaves the shore
And kneels to touch the core.

Though stars perform their show
The country seems to know
The man that I've become
Has yet to find his tongue.

So many people simply duck
And hope the future brings them luck.
The life we live as shifting dunes
Can scarcely read the twisted runes of the wind.
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To those who walk invisible
On sidewalks passing to the right,
I beg to take their dreams in hand
And hold them up to catch the light.