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Life Force

I touched it timidly

afraid almost

as if it would reach out

and consume my fingers.

A strange feeling emanated

from the mask it seemed.

A stark contrast to the mask

fashioned from death’s repose.

American dream…

Could indeed its life force

reach forward from the distant past?

The Mask of Life forged

from living flesh,

its spirit still felt fresh.

I touched the mask of death

and true enough its spirit

felt long gone

now just only cold brass.

So touching again his face from life

to feel once again

that vibrancy of force

left behind as though

unfinished work remained incomplete.

as if its owner’s feet

could still be heard

echoing on down

the halls of history.

**Poem created after visiting the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum in Springfield, Illinois in 2010, and touching the brass masks that had been taken, one from life and the other after his assassination.**

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