Insight 213

Castle made of glass
glistens in the night,
bringing winter winds
to part the rains away,
painting rainbows black
reflecting opened past.

Wishing well in heaven
robbed of all its change,
stolen by the children who
frolic on old snow,
upon a sagging hill,
where all of simple
innocence remains untold.

No one will remember
life before September when a
name is etched in stone,
for a dollar to a hole
forgotten at the bottom
where a trumpet softly blows.

Castle out of glass
swallowing the light,
spitting out the webs
painting rainbows black
so nothing can reflect,
the answers we won’t know.

by Charles Lara

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