the lost beat
poetry, prosetry, tropery, hosiery, ropery, cloakery
Monday, August 10, 2015
Abiding Oak
“I cannot say how bad it hurts
not to have you around anymore”
(could anyone make more plaintive of a cry?)
(no, probably not)
days return
like a typewriter carriage
each waiting for the bell;
waiting for the bell to ring out
“I miss you”
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