Sunday Morning Apathy
The air is thick
Moisture heavy laden
Marigolds vivid against
Dun sodden stockade fence
An errant breeze chilled
By passing rains moves
Humid damp to cloy
The canvas porch couch
Sundays paper wilts
Desultorily smudging ink
On bored fingers
Cold coffee bitters the tongue
Poetry by josephus
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Written on 2021-08-08 at 16:30
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