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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

The Creative Ones

Their eyes are full of enigma.
These people with eyes like that.
As if they see
something halfway between you and them.
It is a kind of innocence
for which there is no sound.
A flood that doesn’t touch your hands.
It has a shyness that doesn’t
turn its gaze,
and when I encounter such people
my voice softens.

I want to reach out
and catch something about to fall.
They are the creative ones.
They are always artists,
whatever mask they wear.
They are people you want to stay.
People you watch when they leave,
your lips parting with a silent call
to come back.
They resemble children who gaze out windows.
People averting their heads to see.
People who walk in the waves.

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