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prose poetry

mysterious night
she heard the children playing in the sun
do you hear the rain?
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
out of the sparkling sea
thoughts through my head
grieve not for the invisible
melancholy, blue it was
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
listen to the sounding sea
a pen of steel

 



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