Saturday, February 24, 2007

Poem #55 of 365

An anthem played in the distance,
a Miles song heard for kilometers.

Words came to mind, a lyric of
contention subsided by redemption.

When you repeated the refrain
on the radio, I wanted to sing.

But I was driving on a bumpy torn
street, and traffic was brutal.

If honking horns could croon in
harmony, we might call it jazz.

If new anthems were played for this nation,
our legacy of war might get tuned out.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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