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A P Taylor
Poems
May 2016
Cafe lore
Syncopated beat of bass
off beat to whirr
of conversation
bouncing around
xylophone ring
as cello claws
New tune, space, breathe
in autumns depth
drums rattle
military in sound
guitarist circling
hands implore
Long involved discourse
passionate corners
Pan pipe whirs
dances rebound
until bass sting
under scores
As Monday approaches
afternoon darkens
synth drags low
coffees ground
sky threatening
my cafe lore.
Written by
A P Taylor
Melbourne
(Melbourne)
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