David Ignatow

(7 February 1914 - 17 November 1997 / Brooklyn/ New York)

Midnight - Poem by David Ignatow

It's midnight, the house silent,
in the distance a musical instrument
being played softly. I am alone.
It's as if the world has come to an end
on a low musical note

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 14, 2012

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