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Jul 2020
I see the dog among the stones,
the shape of bones
pressing at its skin.

the air is wet,
the silence met
by silence in return.

the greying dusk - all paper thin -
still smolders from the burn,
while fading embers dance within
the homes they overturned.
Nothing to say.
keith daniels
Written by
keith daniels  28/M/Nova Scotia, Canada
(28/M/Nova Scotia, Canada)   
150
 
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