Pains Poem by james watkin

Pains



Hill-standing, in open skies
Or roofs lying beneath
In attracting, what does all
Averting, none recall
Pains; and all their lightning-bolts.
Surest aimed searing fire.
For what, unwarned of do speed
Out of the blue indeed!

Tuesday, June 8, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: pain
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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