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A W Bullen
Poems
Nov 2020
Rite
Come mid -winter
they will wait
wait to hear
this lease of life,
call, frost-lipped
on the shortest watch...
To crystallize
the pent unmowed
with isolated vocals,
I draw breath...
address
the talling Solstice
as some celebrant
of picturesque...
I shape the names
of absent faces
warm against
December sky
Written by
A W Bullen
Cardiff
(Cardiff)
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