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David W Jones
Poems
Oct 2013
Moisture
An open window reveals
a chilling breeze; yep,
it's cold outside.
The air chaps
lips and hands;
rough to touch.
The familiar
smell of precipitation
precedes a tear drop.
The downpour smears
a salty message;
notions of ill intent
dripping from the paper
Written by
David W Jones
Las Vegas, Nevada
(Las Vegas, Nevada)
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