My Face Scowls Not, Almost Always Yet Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
My Face Scowls Not, Almost Always Yet
Rare occasion that it does not scowl.
The three footed horse
Just on the threshold of the City
Standing, hummed last night
And then ceased into the gradual
Dawn
But gradually.
Monday, August 14, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: city,horse,standing
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8/29/2026 2:51:15 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
