Dawn Journey

by Aidan Andrew Dun

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At dawn I
blessed my crown
dusted off
my coloured hat
by the silver
pentagram sign
at the bottom
of Pond Street.

Where that
starlight shines
every watcher
on lookout
sees destiny
in the morning.
I was going to
find the one

Whose name has
five syllables.
The streets were
like mysteries
each corner solved
by moving
silently around
unknowns.

As I travelled
to see her
my head brushed
against stars
which asked
to be plucked:
flowers with
voices of light.






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