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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Sunday, November 12, 2017
Crepuscular Perambulating Septuagenarian
Ruminating towards end
Of day, approaching
Olive grove full of wrinkles
And furrows, cicadas drumming
Their delirious ancient song well
Into the night, leaving
Everything plain as day!
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