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The Garden
She lays, sunbathing,
Awake in the sunset,
Placed as an epithet,
Following but shadow,
Celebrity malleable.

Sequence engaged, tomorrow;
Letter sent too late,
Bed slept in layman,
Words dear borrowed,
But a fool too vague.

Sheets in disarray,
One saves time folding,
Sleeping on top.
One who faces the cold,
Has no reason for folio,
Numbering hardships for foals,
Galloping into the distance,
Their grandeur taught.
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February 6, 2018 9:34 pm
20 lines, 66 words

Handfuls of Water


The Garden
He writes fights, such sadness,
Insult poetry, of life invalid,
Views fantastic, mantelpieces.
Cameras and angles fandangled,
Manic as the fan they turn.

Misunderstandable, as most magic.
Penned plans turn older, forever,
Less recognizable, less clever,
Done before.
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December 29, 2017 12:45 pm
10 lines, 38 words