Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Bitter Poetic Susurrus Carried On A Goodly Wind

It’s always this too 
Obscenely familiar 
Refrain that slips through 

(Tall slovenly grasses ringing 
Derelict tombstones) 

That keeps intimating 
Nothing remains the same, 
Nothing worth keeping alive, 

Not even our good name. 


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