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Jan 2021
The old light of the stars
is brittle to breaking
under tonight's deserted curve.
My thoughts slur away...

Wishes wheel out
over the tree line
while radio eyes
hush to the dial.

Cars keep their grip
on the dying street -
my thoughts fracture...
I'm telling you - it still hurts.
Evan Stephens
Written by
Evan Stephens  44/M/DC
(44/M/DC)   
65
     ju and Beau Donner
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