THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



While Working the Plowshare...


She is a flake of gold in the dust;
She is perfect in contour and form;
She is cultured and moral and just;
She is the mending when time is torn.
 
She is the cinder burning so bright;
She is brought from the depths azure;
She is a scepter piercing the night;
She is the greenest of dew-laden pasture.

She is one who manifests love;
She is such strength as I toil and tarry;
She is the one with whom my father is proud of;
She is the one with whom I shall marry.

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