Reclusive, But Of The Past Haunted Poem by james watkin

Reclusive, But Of The Past Haunted



Dim closed off, since who knows when
For this habit's key
Tense-turned, shyly that's hid me.
Thankful even still

For this. In which attic
For Recall, lit bright
The least given in to fright.
That wishes no ill.

Friday, June 10, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: memory
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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