Dead Language 

by Frank Candeloro

I speak an ancient tongue

No one understands -

A tongue so dead

You can’t feel it in your mouth -

A language so dead

You can only see it

In the dark.

The Afterlife of Poems

Poems die when I write them.

I bury them in words.

Push the stone from my mouth -

Resurrect them!

Frank Candeloro has published poetry and fiction in several literary journals. He lives in Ontario.

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February 2018

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