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Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Where are the words?

Where are the words?

When waiting for them
to arrive
I stand beside
empty tracks
awake in the still
darkness 
day doesn’t break
I can’t remember
holding a just arrived
letter in hand
ballpoint penned words
vague memories
night sky stars
silent pin points
evening primroses
waiting for dawn
a black cat
awaits its next
meal
a pencil in hand
and a rover on Mars
finds not one
cigarette butt
left by a wayward
poet.

 

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