Those Hours Of Foreboding Poem by Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

Those Hours Of Foreboding

Rating: 5.0


I linger in the quiet,
That's all there is.
The moon makes no sound,
The air is still,
There's just me here,
Wondering why the night
sighs...
Or perhaps it's me, lamenting
Again,
Your demise.

Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing

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Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

Baltimore, Maryland
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