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old willow
Poems
Feb 2021
a hot cup of coffee
Sitting at my desk, is a cup of coffee.
A sip to burn my tongue,
I feel at ease with warmth.
No longer do I ponder of truth
nor hearing any owl hoot,
the street that is an isle
is now not so wild.
#night
#quiet
#solitude
#peace
#reading
#alone
#street
#coffee
Written by
old willow
17/M
(17/M)
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