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Thomas P Owens Sr
Poems
Mar 2016
outland
it is cold here
frighteningly cold at this end of your dream
i stumble to the frigid peaks of this mountaintop
only to gaze in terror upon the same range before me once again
you awaken
and I remain
you dismiss
and I retain
the moments before sleep
Written by
Thomas P Owens Sr
M/New Market, Va
(M/New Market, Va)
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