Why do we bother with the rest of the day,
the swale of the afternoon,
the sudden dip into evening,
...
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A well crafted poem. Please, read my new poem LIVE IN NATAL SPACE. Thanks.
if necessary, the windows— trees fifty, a hundred years old out there, heavy clouds on the way and the lawn steaming like a horse in the early morning. beautiful portrayal. tony
I like painting images............you did that very well here! tfs
A wonderful poem cleverly written. Superb imagery.