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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Aug 2016
Shawls
On the edge of the evening we try again
leaving hope on the window pane we die again
and the morning light comes in to cry again
on my shoulder
am I older now?
it seems much colder now.
Coffee's still hot and I pour a cup
she borrows the handle and
drinks it up
you and me
will forever be
on the edge of the evening
where we try again.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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