Masks
midnight
they tap us
on the shoulder
bring nightmares
to our sleep
dead warriors
they rise
from battlefield mists
grave their faces
hollow their eyes
seeing nothing
open mouths
flapping soundless
they keep life at bay
forcing us to move away
from what we know
to face life
unmasked
in an unfamiliar way
I made some masks for my Africa room and they scare me. I don’t think I could cope with the real thing!
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This is a Oaxacan mask: armadillo, wood, and goat hair. I have a couple of real scary ones in the house!
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Eeeek!
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