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Tom McCone
Poems
Mar 2015
cavein
sunder sky. days follow.
traverse is but one
word or may
mean anything; all,
open season, like
rain under dawn,
over autumn. like
some footstep, laid down
in the dirt:
i,
in constricting rock tunnel.
hm. where'd i leave my mind.
Written by
Tom McCone
Wellington
(Wellington)
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