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John Destalo
Poems
Apr 2020
grit and gravel
what happened in
the smoke-filled room
at the edge of town
ravens sit on old wires
and wait
sparks flicker beneath them
but they donβt move
tires squeal and dirt flies
small rocks hit
metal and glass
enough to be heard
and felt
but not enough to break
when the dust settles
it is quiet
the birds eventually leave
and the lights come on
automatically
Written by
John Destalo
55/M/Harrisburg, PA
(55/M/Harrisburg, PA)
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26
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