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Ann Beaver
Poems
Jun 2013
Over and Over
Let me try to explain these things.
I slide a need and thread
through my wings.
Over and over.
All the dirt I've bled
stains your shirt.
All the words I've said
over and over
echo off the walls
never quite heard.
Meaning trips and falls
over and over.
I keep repeating
I keep grabbing at something fleeting.
Written by
Ann Beaver
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