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Month: July 2020

MILA THE DOG

I drink the red wine and you the white
while your shaggy-haired friend
takes her leave from your side;
sweet companion of the years
bids farewell one last time and
leaves the garden gate unguarded.

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WRITER

His callused hands
grip the pick axe
and he drives it
against the rock
to prise it from
the earth; it is not
an easy task – much
like the gleaning of
stubborn words
for the page.

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A SMALL SHOOT

She will learn a new way to live
without him; together they were
each other, their times bound by
heart and land; the land remains,
her heart is broken, in the ruins,
the seed of his life offers a small
shoot.

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CRESCENT MOON

The night is empty, hollow of heart,
the thin crescent of the cold moon
hangs high above the scattered stars,
watches over the way of love, scratches
a memory across the darkness.

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FIRESIDE

Behind the rain-latticed windows
the embers in the hearth emit a
faint, red glow, testament to the
fire that once burned bright and
warmed the room against the cold.

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AS IT ONCE WAS

The crescent moon is cupped
to catch the rain-tears the sky
is crying; it sighs gently in the
hazy darkness, knowing the
glory of joy and the fullness
that will come again.

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