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by JD DeHart

We first found the well of souls beneath the castle walls on a rainy winter afternoon before the snow had fully arrived. We were cold and not cold, but suddenly chilled by the voices inside. They were our ancestors reminding us of our forgotten gods. They were ourselves. We carefully dug out the trappings and wares of what we used to be, forgotten pieces of our childhoods, games we used to play. We carried them to our homes and hung them in our windows so all would see. We were so proud. That night, the old dreams came again. So now we must bury again those memories we thought we could master. One day, someone else (maybe us) will dig them out again, but maybe by then we will have mastered our lives. And the dragons inside us will not burn so badly.

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JD DeHart is a writer and teacher. He has recently been nominated for Best of the Net, and his chapbook, The Truth About Snails, is available on Amazon.  He also publishes other poets' work on blogs like SpinRock Reader.  

Where do you get the ideas for your poems?

Most of my ideas come from words that stand out to me, that I then stretch out to flesh into full concepts. I also read as much as I can, which I am sure inspires me.