Would-be writer
I hate living in a rented room
Meeting people in the hall
...
rural ceremonial
open casket
his face was covered in a silk cloth
...
Summer evening
The day is gone
Darkness is moving in
My day
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The Vanishing Future
The lake we swam in, as children, is now
a sea of knee high thistles, in summer
...
Looking inside the mirror
Rambling thoughts
Reflection in a window
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The Field of Mortality
On a field, not far from here, I see millions of lit candles in long rows,
but only at night; in daylight it is a potato patch. A man, you may call
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A love story too
We are making love
But in your eyes I see
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Overcome by sorrow
There is so much misery in the world the bees are dying out
the bumblebee has disappeared, elephants are sot for their
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The transferable tourist
The old ship striped like a rusty zebra
one, that has survived the big storms and attacked
...