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May 2020
Memory, led by the hand,
that comes as the sun drifts
beyond a locked door
toward omen and eagle.

Wine dark seas urge
clear notes from a dream
far out past the lands
memory, a burning flame

still alight in mind,
as dark mists cloak
body became thought
memory, grains of sand.
Jamie Richardson
Written by
Jamie Richardson  Kent
(Kent)   
96
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