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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Saturday, September 14, 2019
In Passing, Dear Heavenly Demiurge
Though it has nothing whatsoever
To do with language
Right or wrong, just fondle
Sweet basil once ever so
Lightly and its scent stays full
Of innocent angels years after
You’re long gone.
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