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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jan 2021
Brooding
They're only dark clouds,
but could be omens
of soldiers marching
off to war,
ah
the thunderclaps of Odin
that echo through Valhalla
ringing in my ears,
only dark clouds blown along
the wind imagining
of things they used to be.
doodles
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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