Midnight
Dreams, a bright and shining future.
Wasps at midnight turning,
layers of past disappointment.
Oil on soft, peeling skin.
Sitting on the dock of the bay
before the new day.
Water, gulls, white flashes,
midnight dust.
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2011-03-18 at 14:33
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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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