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Martin Narrod
Poems
Oct 2015
Untitled #366
human mouths have wept
before the hour, crowding gazers in the streets
news of creation
streaming red blue green
metres undoing the rite of bliss
until yesterday today had been the same
peach skin worn to a sinister shrill
while sound makes the meadow the people hear
and some were unkempt
new tidy purplish stones
new dust collecting time
not all their faces were built for fright
Written by
Martin Narrod
38/M/CA
(38/M/CA)
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