Sunday, October 5, 2008
Behind The Door Comments
Rating: ★0.0
Naked branches, far-reaching black silhouettes,
tapping their slender fingers on cracked windows.
Eerie winds whisk dead leaves across a buckled walk,
while a paint-chipped “for sale” sign creaks to and fro.
...
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7/23/2025 2:42:16 AM # 1.0.0
What an incredible poem for a Halloween eve read. Bill Grace