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an original poem by Peg

Rimbaud's Journey

The cruel sun bakes his skin
The blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked boy
Hides beneath the leathery brown wrinkles

The words no longer come
in flowing passages of prose

The trader sips his coffee
Buys a shipment of guns
Makes plans for the caravan

The visions no longer come
in exploding bursts of color

The blinding sand swirls 'round him
Alone, amidst the desert natives
He seeks the gold of security

The truths no longer come
in sacred dreams of revelation

The pain drives him homeward
The agony of amputation
Becomes his constant companion

The movements no longer come
in carefree flights of freedom

Confined inside a lonely room
The poet lies at rest
As his soul embraces eternity.

Dec. 1979