First
First there was an after,
then there was no more.
The January sun tolls swiftly,
rolling over ghosts of long-gone seas.
The day is a bird's speckled sphere,
stretching its bright windy beak.
First there was an after,
then there was no more.
Poetry by Bob
Read 604 times
Written on 2006-01-15 at 16:33
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by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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