Wet Cement Poem No:1

from crashing waves deduce your answers
burn holes in paper tigers with ember tongues
be a red angel flying on swept back blue wings
carry a dove spangled banner in the midst of battle
touch a strangers pain at least once a day with your eyes
leave a trail in wet cement where your mind wandered
hide secret things, leave false clues, become unsolvable,
find undiscovered lands, burn their maps, wait to be found.

©2008 John G. Hall/Manchester, UK