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Betty H
Poems
Jun 2020
THE ANCIENT
Steady chants outside
draws me to my small window
I am an ancient
Large colorful signs
I squint to find just one word
I limp to my chair
Why do they walk, chant?
young people don't trouble me
except a shooting
I think they mean peace
I am told they are harmless
I say let them be
Written by
Betty H
F
(F)
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