vazambam
new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block
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Friday, July 28, 2017
The Dawning Darkening
The village elders were fond
Of telling us the waxing
Sickle slowly lowering it-
Self in the western sky
Would be full before
We knew it and empty
Itself just as fast—
An eternity passed before
We knew it.
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