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Mar 2017
Water under
the bridge,
rolling and tumbling,

kissing
the rivers' edge.

A *****
strikes the earth,
overturning the
crawling nights'
light lunch.

A bottle of ***
shared by two
who steer clear
of a fires' orange fingers...

fingers to fry
the catch
under a mid-nights' sky.
Irving MacPherson
Written by
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