A Sobbing Man Poem by james watkin

A Sobbing Man



I could not see him
For the chestnut's girth.
Nor hear, for the corollers
Of overhung mirth.

Jogger's panting beat
Hustled off, or found
As from his life's course
Run into the ground?

Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: city
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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