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Sonja Benskin Mesher
Poems
Aug 2016
.meanwhile.
we talked to him at his gate,
asked him how he was.
he looked gently.
later he told me his
ears had been blasted regularly
at the quarry, so he is deaf.
now.
i told him where i was from ,
meanwhile the man at the factory
cleaned bins.
we used the scooter again.
sbm
Written by
Sonja Benskin Mesher
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