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Aug 2015
Expectations were soaring

The invitation addressed:

Me and a Guest.

Expectations were tense.

The last suitcase labelled.

I shaved in my mirror.

Gave the shoes a black shine.

(Pulled back the flap,
Laid a grip on a bottle,
Gave it full throttle)

Expectations were high.

I saw the mailman

Wasn't far from my drive;

Still facing the northwind

The mailman

Walked by.

Expectations can lie.
Francie Lynch
Written by
Francie Lynch
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