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Epiphany

Rating: 3.2

A mackerel sky, a blood-orange sun,
and leaves drooping from the black limbs of oaks;
and thieving magpies, hell-mirroring rooks,
behind an old woman’s whispers and sighs—
sooty bricks with barbs around her heart
as she limps by, and I stop to jot it down.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Pablo Forever 07 May 2008

Life is made up of these glimpses... I take photos of that, you jot it down... we all like to capture it in some way and you do it really well.

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