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Feb 2012
A lone plough tills a
moonless sky.

Votive seeds sewn once more
with ash-white dust
on February’s caustic,
elongated breaths.

Crows carry a portentous look.

Late August: we tied
six roses to the wall
with an expectant love

but faded blood
heralds nothing new.





©*Thomas Gabriel
thomas gabriel
Written by
thomas gabriel
858
   Sister Sinister, ---, serah, --- and ---
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