The Gypsies
With
their switchblade smiles
and burnished copper souls
the Gypsies have assembled
on the railway station forecourt
to be close to travelers
for whom the earth is never still.
They arrive in the night uninvited.
The
future is their prime
commodity. They will barter
a heart for a kettle
and sell you your reflection
at a bargain price, but keep
the fire in their wedding rings
to themselves.
And
suddenly they vanish.
Away
they go
where the lightning directs them,
carrying buckets
filled with moonlight.
—David
Chorlton
Copyright © 2008 by Free Lunch Arts Alliance
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