How are you?
I’m
imagining
you again
November
bound and
cursing
fog.
Fumbling -
two hundred and six
slacking bones
lazy TV eyed
& morning blurred.
Sleepwalking
onto winter.
Am I right?
It’s cold,
you know.
I’m
imagining
you again
November
bound and
cursing
fog.
Fumbling -
two hundred and six
slacking bones
lazy TV eyed
& morning blurred.
Sleepwalking
onto winter.
Am I right?
It’s cold,
you know.
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November 9th, 2006 at 2:02 pm
Ah! Universal blues, J.P.Clark wrote a fine one:
TIDE -WASH
Up the laughing stream
We raced down the sun.
Who there thought such fun
Would end? We held our steam.
But the pulse that never
Gave sign fell through the sand;
Depleted now we stand
Exposed more than ever.
Be good,
wishing well,
Charlotte