Slow night
Slow night descends from storms
filled with menacing snow
where I am just a shelter
blessed with central heating.
Tuned to the one steady channel
where all is merely a capacity
to let it in and to let it go,
a scope, all that life can offer
I no longer run for office,
nor do I call for assistance
when in need of solutions
that eventually fade.
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2011-02-11 at 22:12
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John Ashleigh |
Texts |
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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