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John Destalo
Poems
Dec 2018
sweet fragrance of the sun
dried leaves whimper
bullied by the wind
then thrown away
to a place they
will be crushed
disintegrated
stars scream
when they die
but we canβt hear them
until years later
I walk outside
to smell the night air
it smells like ice
it feels like spice
on my skin
another asteroid is
approaching
one day it will
not miss us
Written by
John Destalo
55/M/Harrisburg, PA
(55/M/Harrisburg, PA)
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